Warning: This post has some sad content, so if you are highly sensitive, you might want to skip it.
Linda at Swell Books wrote a post a couple of weeks ago called Why I Write for Kids. I wrote a kind of dumb answer in her comments section and now I'd like to give it another go.
As a mom of two preschoolers, I watch my two kids struggle to make sense of the world around them. In particular, Josh with his constant categorizing. Pablo is a boy. Uniqua is a girl, right? Or his more recent, I think Manny and Diego are kids (Ice Age). But I know Alex is a kid because he has a Mommy and Daddy. (Madagascar) I don't even bother to remind him that I am a grown up and I have a mommy and daddy (because I want him to stop his rambling and go to sleep!)
Okay, this is where the sad part comes in. My husband was out with the kids the other day and they saw a baby deer who had gotten his foot caught in a sewer grate. The poor thing was terrified. They called the police. The policemen arrived on the scene and after conferring for a second, one of them came over to my husband and said, "Sir, get the kids out of here."
David heard the shot as he drove off.
My kids live in a world where the police officers saved that baby deer. That's what policemen do. They SAVE lives. You call them, and they come to the rescue.
I think I write for kids, because I still want to be living in that world.