Since Christmas was approaching, the woman decided to send him a gift box. Years later the woman learned from a mutual acquaintance that Eddie had grown up and become a soldier. One year she offered to give him the book, but Eddie declined because he wanted to hear her read it aloud to him, which she continued to do every year until the boy and his family moved away. She had a collection of picture books, which she read to him, but around the holidays, the only story he ever wanted to hear, over and over, was The Polar Express. He would often cross his driveway to visit her. 'Of course,' I answered.Ī dozen years earlier the woman, who had no children of her own, befriended a neighbor, a boy of about seven, named Eddie. As I inscribed a book to a woman in her sixties, she told me that it was the second copy she had owned, and wanted to know if she could she tell me what had happened to the first. One of the most poignant was told to me five or six years ago at a book signing in the Midwest, on a snowy December evening. Over the past twenty-five years, many people have shared stories with me about the effect that reading The Polar Express has had on their families and on their celebration of Christmas. The Polar Express rings with vitality and wonder.Īmazon Exclusive: A Letter from Chris Van Allsburg Allsburg, a sculptor who entered the genre nonchalantly when he created a children's book as a diversion from his sculpting, won the 1986 Caldecott Medal for this book, one of several award winners he's produced. And one couldn't ask for a more talented artist and writer to tell the story than Chris Van Allsburg. One couldn't select a more delightful and exciting premise for a children's book than the tale of a young boy lying awake on Christmas Eve only to have Santa Claus sweep by and take him on a trip with other children to the North Pole.

The Polar Express by Chris Van Allsburg