Take a look at the Portland newspaper, The Oregonian, for January 6, 2002. An article recommending Opal to Northwestern readers also questions the authenticity of the allegedly precocious young Opal. Apparently, she turned up in Los Angeles without a diary or notes; two years later, a box of diary notes with a surprisingly literary, sophisticated mentality arrived at the publisher's. So: the book may be good, but it may have been written by the adult Opal as she was on the verge of mental illness.

Re: the reader review that said "This book's authenticity is in question..."

I refer you to the exhaustive research that Benjamin Hoff conducted and later decribed in his introduction to The Singing Creek Where the Willows Grow that argues very convincingly for the diary's authenticity, and disproves and discredits her detractors.

Opal was the real deal, and a true genius.

I'll start out by saying that I have not read the original version of Opal's diary, nor have I read the book by Benjamin Hoff on the diary that is so highly regarded. When I first began to search locally for anything by or about Opal Whiteley, this book was the only one I could obtain. It did not disappoint.

I was led to seek out this remarkable work (written by a young girl of 5-6 years just after 1900) through singer-songwriter Anne Hills. I had heard Anne perform a song called 'Brown leaves' -- words of Opal Whiteley, set to music at Anne's request by her good friend, songwriting genius Michael Smith. She explained the background of the song to the audience that night, and I was deeply touched by it -- enough so that I began to look for the book the very next day.

Orphaned before she was 5, adopted by an Oregon lumberman and his wife and transported across the country to live in nearly 20 lumber camps by the time she was 12 years old, Opal turned to the beauty of the natural world around her and saw it like no one I've read before or since I discovered this amazing journal. Not only is her keen sense of observation astounding for a girl of her age, but the unique language in which she conveys it to us allows the reader to do away with any preconceptions that might be held, revealing our world in an entirely original, glorius light. It's almost like seeing for the first time.

A brief sample: 'Now are come the days of leaves. They talk with the wind. I hear them tell of their borning days. They whisper of the hoods they wear. Today they talk of the time before their borning days. They tell how they were a part of the earth and the air before their tree-borning days. In grey days of winter they go back to earth again. But they do not die.'

This young girl was possessed of an incredible mind -- she understood what she saw in the forest around her better than most adults, and she articulated it in such a way as to make it spring to life as only the mind of a child can do.

The writings, in their original form, were made by Opal on note-paper, wrapping paper, scraps of paper bags, whatever she could lay her hands on -- in the closely-spaced, all-capitals scrawl of a girl of 5 or 6 with little or no formal education. The scraps of paper remained hidden in the Oregon woods until Opal was 20 -- it's a micacle (and a blessing to us) that they survived. When she had retrieved the scraps, it took her 9 months to reassemble them.

There are many aspects of Opal's life that are still mysteries to us -- some of these are touched upon by the introduction and afterward by Jane Boulton, who assembled this volume, and by a postscript from Opal herself.

This is one of those books that will continue to touch and affect the reader for a lifetime -- Opal Whiteley's voice is a fresh, powerful and unforgettable one. If more people could experience the pure, unadorned beauty of the world through the lens of this work, perhaps the fight to preserve and protect our fragile environment would be an easier battle to win.

As a final note, Anne Hills' recording of 'Brown leaves' can be heard on her fine cd 'Angle of the light', available through amazon.com.

Opal Whitely's story is an utterly amazing thing in every respect. Her life as a child, her exquisite sensitivity, and her way of expressing herself -- it's all just amazing.

That said, I don't understand this version! Compared to Jane Boulton's original adaptation (if that's what you'd call it), "Opal, Journal of an Understanding Heart," this seems gutted and meaningless. Maybe it's meant to be less sad for young children, I don't know. Read the original version.

This story is about the life of a little girl named Opal who loves nature. Her mother and father died and went to Heaven. Just by looking at the pictures you can tell that she has a sad life. Her new mama is not very nice. Opal has a favorite tree that she loves. The tree is called Michael Raphael. He has an understanding soul. She also has a sweet dog named Brave Horatius. My favorite part is when Opal writes about her feelings. Kids who like to relax will like this book because it has soothing words. It has really great illustrations, too! This is a terrific story!

The "point" of the picture book edition of Opal's diary is to make it accessible to younger readers. I would not hand a young child Boulton's longer edition or _The Singing Creek Where the Willows Grow_, whereas any Barbara Cooney book can be recommended to young children without reservations.

That said, this edition is satisfying in itself. The book is touching and beautifully illustrated and unique. I recommend it highly, along with the other editions of the diary and everything else illustrated by Barbara Cooney.