Always Room for One More

Sorche Nic Leodhas retells a Scottish folk song she said she first heard from her own grandfather, about Lachlan MacLachlan, called Lachie, a warmhearted Highlander who already shares a small cottage with his wife and ten children. When travelers caught out by bad weather come knocking, Lachie never turns anyone away, inviting in one more guest and then another, each one squeezing into a house that is already full past any reasonable limit. The cottage keeps filling until the walls finally give way under the weight of so many grateful strangers, and the whole small house collapses around its overcrowded but happy occupants. Rather than blame Lachie for his open door, the neighbors who benefited from his kindness over the years pitch in together and build the family a bigger house in its place, one large enough that Lachie can keep right on saying yes to every traveler who comes asking for a bed.

Nonny Hogrogian, who trained in woodcut under printmakers Antonio Frasconi and Hodaka Yoshida and used it for her first published book in 1960, gives the Highland cottage and its ever growing crowd of guests a grainy, textured look rather than a smooth, painted one, the rooms visibly more crowded with travelers on every page until the walls themselves seem to strain against the frame. It reads well aloud to children around four to eight, its repeating pattern of knock, welcome and squeeze making the growing crowd easy to follow even before the walls finally give way, and the eventual collapse tends to land as a satisfying release rather than a disaster once a young listener has watched the house fill up for several pages running.