White Bird: A Novel - Based on the Graphic Novel

Soon to be a major motion picture starring Helen Mirren and Gillian Anderson!

Read the novelized version of the celebrated New York Times bestselling story of kindness and unrelenting courage in a time of war--inspired by the blockbuster phenomenon Wonder.

Sara Blum lives an idyllic life with her adoring parents in Vichy France. But her world comes crashing down when the Nazi occupation separates the family and forces the young Jewish girl into hiding. Her classmate Julien and his family will risk everything to ensure her survival, and, together, Sara and Julien manage to find beauty in a secret world of their creation.

First published as a graphic novel and now a major motion picture starring Helen Mirren and Gillian Anderson, R. J. Palacio s unforgettable story demonstrates the power of kindness to change hearts, build bridges, and even save lives in the darkest of times.

Includes an 8-page photo insert and a discussion guide.

Leseprobe:

Chapter One

1930s, France



Sara? Sara, are you ready to go?

I spun around in an exasperated circle, watching the skirt of my new dress flare out. Papa, how can you ask that? I ve been ready for hours, I told him.

Hours? He raised a dubious eyebrow.

I nodded. Yes, hours. Can we go now?

In a moment, when your mother is ready. Where s your coat and hat? asked Papa.

I groaned dramatically. It s spring, Papa. I don t need my coat and hat.

Papa put on his own coat and hat, then folded his arms across his chest. My dear girl, I am a man of science. The calendar may say it is spring, but look outside and you ll see that the trees are telling a different story.

The trees say I m fine without my coat and hat, I informed him.

Your mother says otherwise, and that s final, said Maman, joining us in the front hall. She looked so chic in her red wool coat and matching hat that I abandoned my prote st and put mine on, too.

Fine. Can we go now? I asked, twirling again for her to admire me. She kissed me on the head, and we set off for the market, the three of us, arm in arm.

This was our family tradition on weekend mornings. We would go for a brisk walk together and do our grocery shopping. I always insisted on walking in the middle. I felt safe and snug between the two of them. I also liked imagining the three of us as a sandwich: my tall, elegant papa and my pretty, sophisticated maman were the two sides of une baguette, and I was un petit morceau de fromage nestled between them.

Bonjour, Dr. Blum! Bonjour, Mme. Blum! our friends and neighbors would call out as we passed them in the streets. I liked noticing the way the people in our town looked at us. That s Dr. Blum, I would imagine them telling visitors. He s an extremely talented surgeon. And his wife is brilliant as well. She teaches at the university! And she was one of the first women in our village to graduate with an advanced degree in mathematics. Aren t they a handsome couple? That s their daughter, Sara. A lovely child. She plays piano and has many friends and--

Sara?

Hmm? I looked up, flustered.

Maman gave me a bemused smile and wagged her finger. Were you daydreaming again?

No! I-- Well, maybe, I admitted.

It s not a crime, Papa assured me. If anything, it is a sign of intellect. You have a curious mind, Sara. Just like your mother.

I think the daydreaming part comes from your father, said Maman.

We continued on our way. As we did, Papa quietly took my right hand. Soon, Maman slipped her hand into my left. I watched hopefully for a knowing glance to pass across my parents faces. Sure enough . . .

Un . . . deux . . . trois! they called, swinging my arms rhythmically before lifting me off my feet. I hopped at just the right moment to take flight, springing into the air. Maman laughed. You r e getting too big for this, Sara, she chided me.

Never! I protested, smiling back. I knew there was some truth in what she said--I wasn t a baby anymore. But I still liked to play, and I wasn t ready to give up our little games. I snatched a loaf of bread from her market basket and dashed off with it, holding the baguette aloft and hoping for a chase.

Come back here! called Papa. But he didn t run after me immediately. I could see him whispering to Maman, his brow furrowed. My mother nodded gravely at whatever he was saying, then whispered something back. I wondered what they were talking abou