Before They Can Read
Picture books lay the groundwork for reading success and cultural literacy
A few weeks ago, a staff editor for The Atlantic reached out asking me to recommend five picture books for very young children, up to second grade. While list-making is fun and will spark spirited debates about which titles belong in the picture book canon and I’m happy to contribute, I want to use the occasion to make a broader point: the real aim ought to be exposing children to the widest possible range of stories, subjects, and language as possible. Picture books aren’t just charming artifacts of early childhood or a bulwark against a screen-based life. They are the foundation of literacy, cultural knowledge, and cognitive growth.
E.D. Hirsch, Jr., whose work on cultural literacy has shaped my thinking for decades, has long argued that reading comprehension is not a transferable “skill” like riding a bike or throwing a ball, but depends heavily on what the reader already knows. The stories, vocabulary, and archetypes embedded in picture books provide the background knowledge children need to make sense of more complex texts later on. In this way, picture books are not just an entry point to literacy—they’re a child’s first curriculum.
The Cognitive Benefits of Reading Aloud
In her email seeking a five-best list, the Atlantic editor defined picture books as those that “teach children the habit of turning pages, following a story, and becoming enchanted by literature.” All worthy goals, but there’s more to reading with children than encouraging them to fall in love with books. Research by Anne Cunningham and Keith Stanovich in their landmark 1998 article What Reading Does for the Mind demonstrated that children’s books contain more rare and sophisticated vocabulary than the spoken language of even college graduates, and 50 percent more rare words per thousand than prime-time adult television. In fact, the only category of speech more sophisticated than the language in children’s books, they found, is expert testimony given at trials.
Teachers call these sophisticated words “Tier Two vocabulary” and it’s the sweet spot for language development: high-utility words that appear across many subjects and contexts (e.g., contrast, fortunate, investigate). Unlike “Tier One” words, which are basic terms children usually learn in daily conversation before school (dog, happy, car), Tier Two words are often encountered in print but less common in everyday speech. They also differ from “Tier Three” words, which are specialized terms tied to a particular subject area (isotope, photosynthesis) and rarely used outside that domain.
This is why print exposure is so important and powerful. The more children read and are read to, the more vocabulary and complex syntax they acquire. Early advantages and disadvantages in reading ability lead to increasingly larger gaps over time. Children who start out strong in vocabulary and reading tend to read more, gain more knowledge, and get even stronger, while struggling readers fall further behind. Stanovich dubbed this the “Matthew Effect” after the biblical verse Matthew 25:29: “For to everyone who has, more will be given... but from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away.” Simply put, the rich get richer; the poor get poorer. Those who get an early start in vocabulary and background knowledge tend to advance faster, while those who do not fall further behind. Picture books can start children off on the right side of the Matthew Effect.
Cultural Literacy
Hirsch’s central insight is that reading comprehension is impossible without background knowledge. Picture books fill this gap by introducing children to the “world of the world” as well as the “world of words.” There are countless examples: Miss Rumphius transports a child across time and continents; The Story of Ferdinand opens a window onto Spain and the idea of individuality; The Snowy Day captures a child’s-eye view of a winter cityscape. These books do not simply tell stories—they build familiarity with cultural references, settings, and concepts that will reappear in literature, history, and science classes for years to come.
Reading comprehension strategies such as “making predictions” or “finding the main idea” are often overemphasized in classrooms as all-purpose reading comprehension “skills” to be explicitly taught, perhaps to compensate for a lack of background knowledge. But these skills emerge almost organically when children are immersed in classic stories with familiar archetypes and structures. When a child has heard dozens of trickster tales like Anansi the Spider, they begin to recognize story patterns and anticipate outcomes. The repetitive structure of The Little Red Hen or The Little Engine That Could teaches story grammar—characters, conflict, resolution—long before formal instruction. This familiarity helps children approach new texts. A child who knows how fairy tales unfold or who has met Sendak’s Wild Things will more easily make sense of new narratives, simply because they have a mental model for prediction and comprehension.
Children who grow up immersed in nursery rhymes, Aesop’s fables, and classic fairy tales develop what might be called archetypal fluency—a familiarity with timeless story structures, character types, and moral dilemmas that serve as the scaffolding for countless contemporary stories. It’s a childhood version of how adults recognize West Side Story as a modern retelling of Romeo and Juliet, or how a literate adult sees The Lion King not just as an animated classic, but as an accessible riff on Hamlet—a princely exile haunted by a dead father and betrayed by an ambitious uncle.
Children who know the story of The Tortoise and the Hare will grasp the moral arc of Lightning McQueen in Pixar’s Cars more intuitively. Those familiar with The Ugly Duckling are primed to appreciate the underdog triumph of Kung Fu Panda or Ratatouille. A child who has heard The Boy Who Cried Wolf multiple times knows, when watching Chicken Little that a lesson about trust and truth-telling is coming. Familiarity with Little Red Riding Hood prepares a child to recognize narrative cues in films like Into the Woods or Hoodwinked!—the stranger with the big smile, the danger that lurks beneath. Just as adults find meaning in modern adaptations of classical works, children find coherence and delight in contemporary stories when they are fluent in the source material that undergirds them.
While the focus of this exercise is on picture books, a final and crucial point is that reading aloud should continue long after children can read independently. Studies show that a child’s reading comprehension ability usually doesn’t catch up to listening comprehension until middle school. This means children can understand complex language and ideas much more easily when they hear them read aloud than when they read it themselves. Stopping read-aloud sessions at home or at school when a child “graduates” from picture books leaves a gap during the very years when vocabulary and knowledge acquisition could accelerate the fastest.
A Canon of Many, Not Few
The Atlantic asked me to name five picture books for very young children. I’ll freely admit I’m cheating with my recommendations by choosing anthologies. I make no apologies. The world is too rich, varied, and enticing to confine ourselves to five individual stories—no matter how extraordinary they are. If the aim is not only to grow a reader but to cultivate curiosity, wonder, and excitement, then breadth matters. Think of these five collections as capacious “first libraries” in a single binding, giving children dozens of entry points into language, culture, and knowledge:
Aesop’s Fables, illustrated by Charles Santore (2018)
A beautifully rendered edition of timeless moral tales—The Tortoise and the Hare, The Boy Who Cried Wolf, and more. Compact plots and clear morals build ethical reasoning and archetypal story structures that echo across literature and media.The Real Mother Goose, illustrated by Blanche Fisher Wright (original 1916 edition; various reprints) The definitive collection many modern versions draw from. Wright’s iconic vintage art pairs with rhythmic rhymes—Jack and Jill, Humpty Dumpty, Little Miss Muffet—to cement memory, cadence, and shared cultural references.
A Year Full of Stories: 52 Folk Tales and Legends from Around the World by Angela McAllister, illustrated by Christopher Corr. One short, vibrant tale per week, tied to seasons and festivals. Folk‑art illustrations and global settings sustain attention while widening children’s cultural map.
Over the Hills and Far Away: A Treasury of Nursery Rhymes from Around the World, edited by Elizabeth Hammill. A global anthology of nursery rhymes, each spread interpreted by a different acclaimed illustrator. Terrific for rhythm, memory, pronunciation, and cross‑cultural connections.
An Anthology of Intriguing Animals by Ben Hoare (DK). Choosing a single science picture book was the hardest part of this exercise and candidly, somewhat arbitrary. This one boasts large, sumptuous spreads with short “micro‑essays” perfect for 3–5 minute read‑alouds. Rich vocabulary and factual sidebars invite questions and comparisons—the raw materials of scientific curiosity.
These five volumes are launchpads, not limits. Read them widely and repeatedly; let children linger, question, and wander. The goal is a childhood saturated with stories, words, images, and knowledge—so that love of reading is fueled by the even more durable habit of wonder.
If reading truly “makes us smarter,” as Cunningham and Stanovich argued, then picture books are where it begins. They give children access to sophisticated language, teach them how stories work, and lay the groundwork for background knowledge and cultural literacy. For Hirsch, literacy was always more than decoding letters—it was the ability to understand references, context, and ideas that knit a society together. Picture books begin this work at the earliest stage, building the knowledge and vocabulary they will draw upon for a lifetime.
Happy reading.

Two more for the list: “1001 Arabian Nights” got me through a horrible case of chicken pox with dozens of stories when I was a kid. And the virtually unknown picture book by Virginia Woolf, “Nurse Lugton’s Curtain,” is magnificent and was a favorite of my children.
Love that you pulled the "wish for more wishes" trick, when you were only given 3 wishes. I mean, 5 books.
I'm also thinking about how important these references can be as students grow up and read (hopefully) articles that reference such works. E.g. a "little Engine that could" political candidate. Or see political cartoons that reference such works. There are hundreds of political cartoons that show figures as Humpty Dumpty, for example. Or a favorite of mine I've used with 8th graders in history class, Herbert Block's 1939, "Little Goldilocks Riding Hood." It makes the Nazi Soviet Pact more understandable. But only if students know the two stories.