John's Whistle. Lili Ferreiros

      Lili Ferreirós & Sonja Wimmer

      Lili Ferreirós & Sonja Wimmer

      John’s Whistle

      Text © Lili Ferreirós

      Illustrations © Sonja Wimmer

      This edition © 2013 Cuento de Luz SL

       Calle Claveles 10 | Urb Monteclaro | Pozuelo de Alarcón | 28223 | Madrid | Spain

      www.cuentodeluz.comOriginal title in Spanish: El silbido de JuanEnglish translation by Jon Brokenbrow

       ISBN: 978-84-15784-13-5

      All rights reserved

      To all the Johns in the world who teach us to how to decipher the language of love with all of its mysterious and powerful meaning.

      - Lili Ferreirós -

      To my mother, who can whistle better than anyone.

      - Sonja Wimmer -

      John had whistled since he was little. In fact, his first word wasn’t a word at all. It was a whistle.

      His grandparents, his aunts and uncles and his closest neighbors said that it was something that had been in his family for a long, long time. One of his ancestors had been famous for his way of whistling.

      The problem was that when John was at the age when other children begin to speak, John didn’t. And as he grew up, whenever he wanted to ask for something or express how he felt, he could only whistle.

      Time passed, and John’s whistles began to develop into different sounds. He eventually had enough to fill a dictionary of unique sounds! A sharp whistle called people’s attention, a louder whistle signaled that he was hungry, and an even louder one escaped when he was frightened. John blew short whistles when he was sad, and long, sweet whistles when he was happy. He blew a gentle, playful little whistle when he wanted to say “I love you,” and a deeper, more serious sounding whistle when he wanted to say just the opposite.