The children that live on Orange Street know a thing or two about oranges. The big, old orange tree in the vacant lot supplies them with juicy, delicious fruit, and more importantly, with a place. A place to hold meetings, like those of the Girls with Long Hair Club, a place to practice magic, a place to dig, and a place to heal, and a place keep secrets. They all understand that the orange tree belongs to all of them, to the children of Orange Street, but one morning, they wake up to an orange cone in front of the vacant lot—an orange cone that means changes when these children, individually, can’t take much more change.
I loved this book. It was understated and beautiful, wove together the stories of four children and one old lady today with stories of four children in the past. We get to see shining examples of family and community, stories of tiny hopes and important losses and big dreams and small worries, all in one story that’s sweet and charming and bright, like the fresh-squeezed juice of a Valencia orange.