Books like Orphans

Newberry Honor book winner Gail Carson Levine beautifully captures the life of eleven-year-old Dave, a troublemaking orphan in 1926, and his time in New York’s Hebrew Home for Boys.

When I years ago read this book to my son, who was abut Dave’s age, both of us became enthralled with not only the vivid description of the sometimes tough and rigid orphanage in the Lower East Side, but also Dave’s late-night adventures into the beautiful music and among the kind strangers and leading figures of the Harlem Renaissance.

Loosely based on her father’s time in New York’s Hebrew Orphan Asylum, Levine opens a window and lets us hear the Yiddish sounds and lets us peak into the early twentieth-century world of Jewish orphanages, while also celebrating the boisterous joys of friendship with unlikely partners.

The author of nearly three dozen nonfiction books for young people, Catherine Reef reveals through her clear writing, first-hand accounts, and photographs what it was really like for a child to grow up in an orphanage in America from the mid-1850s to the early 20th century when nearly all of these congregate dependent childcare institutions closed.

Reef also includes a satisfying Afterword that lets us know “where life led some of the children” who appeared in her book. Although intended for a young reader, Alone in the World also proved a strong resource to me in writing my book and will interest anyone who wants a thoughtful and deeply-researched overview of this topic.

Kim Van Alkemade wrote this New York Times bestselling novel based upon a series of real-life experiences, including those of her great-grandmother who worked as a counselor in New York’s Hebrew Orphan Asylum.

Orphan #8 is a powerful and unforgettable book about Rachel, who after being placed in New York’s Hebrew Infant Home, is subjected to experimental radiation treatments as Dr. Mildred Solomon bolsters her medical reputation at the expense of the little girl’s health.

The story focuses on Rachel, now an adult nurse, when Dr. Solomon becomes her patient. Given the widespread popularity of this book, I know I was not the only reader riveted by Rachel’s choice between compassion and retribution, and the extraordinary human capacity to cause harm and to love. 

Perhaps the standard bearer in scholarly research about the history of orphanages in America, U Mass Boston Professor Timothy Hacsi’s Second Home is essential reading for anyone seriously studying the subject.

Armed with tables that cogently summarize – by decade - the number and types of orphanages, their populations, funding sources, and staffing ratios, Hacsi surveys the landscape of American public policy in the 19th and 20th centuries as religious groups, Progressives, and ultimately government responded to the needs of dependent children and families. 

This book combined the old west with a very thought-out magic system that enhanced the setting. The humor was sometimes tear-drawingly funny for me. The characters seemed alive, complex, and independent. The world seemed real and tangible if not quite like our world. The magic also had a refreshing take and allows for infinite speculation on how the powers might cross-combine. It also had moments of monumental exercises of power as well as monumental limits on powers complicating the storyline.

Subtitled A Stranger Among the Pilgrims, this little gem details the unlikely story of Richard More, who arrived on our shores as a child on The Mayflower…then grew up, moved north to Salem Village, and watched one of his best friends die in the infamous witch trials. The author also happens to be More’s descendant, which brings an extra passion to the telling.

Willow is such an important novel for any teen who has gone through a traumatic event.

Willow, a 17-year-old girl is dealing with grief over the death of her parents and the fact that she was driving the car that killed them. She’s had to leave behind her old home, friends, and school. But Willow has found a way to survive, to numb the new reality of her life, she is secretly cutting herself.

For every teen that has either cut themselves, drank to numb the pain, starved themselves, or done any sort of self-harm in order to protect themselves from their inward pain, this book is for you. Not only is this story about grief and guilt, but it is also about love and never giving up.

Oh dear, I’m cheating again. Sort of. This isn’t really fantasy, either. It’s an adventure for young adults featuring teenage spy Alex Rider. But I love it too much to care, and besides, cheating is cool, kids! But there’s a specific reason why I’m finishing this list with Stormbreaker. Despite its exciting action, the book is written as a relatable and grounded affair. Alex Rider is an ordinary kid with ordinary problems. He’s ginger, often lonely, underestimated, and regularly cast aside. He’s relatable and that’s why I loved the books.

The film adaptation is a ridiculous charade of impossible stunts starring an incredibly handsome blonde-haired model and it feels like someone threw up confetti over a story that actually meant something to me. Fifteen-year-old me was justified in throwing his popcorn at the screen.

I could easily have recommended any of the Lemony Snicket books here, but this one distinguishes itself from the other entries in the series by being darker and with higher stakes than the books that came before or after it.

I appreciated how this book outshone its siblings by giving a twisted representation of medical systems (albeit through a humorous lens) as well as poking fun at medical charities and medical education. The series’ normally clownish villain becomes a more serious threat here. This book is the installment where the story grew up.

I liked it not only as a humorous children’s book but as a thriller and a horror novel.

The title offers an important hint that the focus isn’t solely on exterior events. In this sequel to The War That Saved My Life, World War II still rages across the English countryside, though Ada’s actually emotionally safer than she’d ever been when living with her mother. But memories of that time still give her terrible nightmares, and when a crisis makes her feel like they’re coming true, she discovers that there’s a big difference between fear and what you do with it. The horses, the lushly-depicted historical landscape, and a truly relatable and beautifully-wrought battle with the wars we carry inside make this a book I want to read over and over.