Several years ago, my mother-in-law sent us some of her old children’s books, including an old copy of Blueberries for Sal by Robert McCloskey. It was a book that I enjoyed reading to my own kids, about a girl named Sal who goes blueberry picking with her mother, and ends up trailing behind a mother bear, while the bear’s cub ends up trailing behind Sal’s mother. Luckily, everyone gets sorted out in the end, and Sal and her mother go home to can berries for the Winter.

This year, for Mother’s Day, I decided to write a song based on Blueberries for Sal. It such a sweet, timeless story, and it brings back my own memories of picking blackberries with my own Mom when I was little. Thinking back on the little adventures I had with my kids when they were little, I thought it would be fun to write a song from the perspective of the mother in the story.

Sal and I went up the hill
With our silver pails.
The sun was high, the world was still
As we wandered up the trail.
And I watched her eyes grow wide and bright
At the treasures all around,
Plucking berries one by one,
Shiny, blue, and round.

And the morning was a treasure too,
Though I didn’t know it then.
Wish I could seal these memories in a jar,
So I could live them all again.

She dropped the berries in her pail,
Then ate them one by one.
She sat beside the largest bush,
Munching in the sun.
I thought of all the jam we’d share
In the Winter days ahead.
Sipping cocoa by the fireside,
Reading stories in her bed.

And the morning was a treasure too,
Though I didn’t know it then.
Wish I could seal these memories in a jar,
So I could live them all again.

I felt a tug and turned around
To see her golden head,
To my surprise, a little bear
Was watching me instead.
The nightmares flooded through my mind,
Of Sal alone, so small and frail,
Until I heard the happy plinking sound,
Of berries in her pail.

And as we left that afternoon,
I saw the mother bear,
With that bear cub trotting close behind,
Romping in the autumn air.

I wondered if that mother bear
Carried the same fear,
That the world would not be safe or kind
To the one she held so dear.
I thought of mothers everywhere,
And my own so far away,
Wishing they be blessed with happy times,
And peaceful dreams at end of day.

And the morning was a treasure too,
Though I didn’t know it then.
Wish I could seal these memories in a jar,
So I could live them all again.

What are your favorite classic picture books? Please share them in the comments below.