He traced letters in sand, snow, and dust. He borrowed books and walked miles to bring them back. When he grew up, he became the sixteenth president of the United States. His name was Abraham Lincoln. He loved books. They changed his life. He changed the world.

    D. Nelson   Sitting Bull (c. 1831–1890) was one of the greatest Lakota/Sioux warriors and chiefs who ever lived. He was eventually named war chief, leader of the entire Sioux nation—a title never before bestowed on anyone. As a leader, Sitting Bull resisted the United States government’s attempt to move the Lakota/Sioux to reservations for more than twenty-five years.   From Sitting Bull’s childhood—killing his first buffalo at age ten—to being named war chief, to leading his people against the U.S. Army, and to his surrender, Sitting Bull: Lakota Warrior and Defender of His People brings the story of the great chief to light. Sitting Bull was instrumental in the war against the invasive wasichus (White Man) and was at the forefront of the combat, including the Battles of Killdeer Mountain and the Little Bighorn. He and Crazy Horse were the last Lakota/Sioux to surrender their people to the U.S. government and resort to living on a reservation.   Award-winning author and member of the Standing Rock Sioux tribe S. D. Nelson intersperses archival images with his own artwork, inspired by the ledger-art drawings of the nineteenth-century Lakota. Through the art and riveting story, Nelson conveys how Sitting Bull clung to his belief that the Lakota were a free people meant to live, hunt, and die on the Great Plains.

    As it moves from one labor camp to the next, the little family of four grows into ten. Impermanence and poverty define their lives. But with faith, hope, and back-breaking work, the family endures.

    Then I’ll tell you its story." When a little girl visits her great-grandfather at his curio-filled home, she chooses an unusual object to learn about: an old cigar box. What she finds inside surprises her: a collection of matchboxes making up her great-grandfather’s diary, harboring objects she can hold in her hand, each one evoking a memory. Together they tell of his journey from Italy to a new country, before he could read and write — the olive pit his mother gave him to suck on when there wasn’t enough food; a bottle cap he saw on his way to the boat; a ticket still retaining the thrill of his first baseball game.