Silence by the Buddhist monk Thich That Hanh is one of those books you read and it all seems so simple, so obvious, so doable. Of course if I slowed down and silenced the voices that chattered away in my mind I'd be a happier person. If I practiced mindfulness, nourishment and silence things would be better. It's one of those deceptively simple books which you read and feel certain that today is the day you will put these ideals into practice and begin anew. And then of course you pick up your phone and doom scroll or hate scroll or whatever kind of scroll it is you do. Well, at least that's what I did. But I kept returning to read small passages of the books in moments of overwhelm and found comfort and felt hope.

So why am I pairing it with a picture book about a mouse called Frederick written and illustrated by Leo Lionni in 1967? Because to me, small, gray Frederick seems to embody some of the things that Hanh espouses in his book.

As you read the first few pages of Frederick you might think you're reading some version of the Ant and the Grasshopper. Winter is coming, and a family of field mice are busy gathering grains and straw and wheat for the cold months ahead. Every one of them except Frederick who sits on his own in silence, doing nothing. When asked why he won't work Frederick says he is gathering sun rays for the cold dark winter days. Or colours because winter is gray.

When the mice finally move into their hideout at first snow, things are good at first. There is food and chatter and the exchanging of stories. But as things get colder and food supplies dwindle, their moods turn as dark as the winter days outside.

It's then that they turn to Frederick and ask (perhaps tauntingly? perhaps desperately?) where his supply of words and thoughts and colours are.

Frederick then proceeds to warm them and lift their spirits with his memories and words, quietly accepting their declaration that he's a poet.

Both books are a reminder to be still and quiet for some time every day. That when bad times seem interminable to draw upon our inner store of words, colours and warmth and share them with others.