“Perhaps you know whose child this is?”
They address me with European politeness.
And I’m sorely tempted to tell them, “I’m so sorry, I don’t.”

There’s no Nobel Prize for motherhood—what a pity.

Imagine a stage with a dark blue velvet carpet and heavy cream curtains, where the Queen of Sweden calls up all the mothers, not just one or two. She shakes their hands and presents them
with shiny gold medals.

And in challenging moments to come, they will remember their medals, the lights, and the gold, and find strength once again.

In Landscape Girl, Ruti Kepler brings us into the neat, orderly world of the Froman family and their daughter, Libby, who is anything but.

Libby doesn’t fit into neat frames and tapestries, as she hops over boundaries that seemingly don’t exist, in order to explore whatever it is that’s caught her attention at that given moment…

The road on this wild landscape of mothering seems endless and unpredictable.

Yet the Fromans know that no matter where their Landscape Girl takes them, they will smile, they will cry, and they will — with absolutely no doubt — end up laughing.