Bigger Than a Breadbox (review)

Twelve-year-old Rebecca is righteously incensed when her mother, without preamble or explanation, packs her and her two-year-old brother into their car and drives them away from their father and home in Baltimore to Atlanta. Rebecca's anger propels her into hiding in her grandmother's attic, where she discovers an antique breadbox that has the power to deliver whatever she wishes for, as long as it fits inside the breadbox. She uses her wishes and her anger to reinvent herself as the cool kid she never was in Baltimore, until an ill-advised wish causes her to realize that these gifts from the universe aren't appearing out of nowhere but are actually taken from other people and places to whom they rightfully belong. While the fantasy element provides movement and texture for the plot as well as a site for moral development, the engine behind this story is Rebecca's growing sense of self as she struggles to look at her situation from other people's perspectives, particularly that of her little brother, whose feelings, like hers, have been completely overlooked in their mother's decision. Rebecca's ultimate assertion of her own needs thus emerges as the logical outcome of a carefully staged series of setbacks and small victories that test and reveal her limits. Rebecca's perspective is squarely preteen—sparks of emotional insight and other-directed compassion compete with stubborn selfishness that is ultimately rewarded as necessary self-preservation; her story will find favor with every kid who's ever felt pushed around and lost in the middle of adult problems.