One snowy winter an old man aids a trapped crane, and then shortly thereafter a mysterious young woman visits him and his wife to help with housework and weave valuable cloth to sell so that they can live comfortably until spring. She asks only that no one watch her while she weaves, so you know someone is going to peep eventually.

This is a retelling of the Japanese folktale "Tsuru no Ongaeshi," which is sometimes called "The Crane Wife" and has the mysterious woman marrying the man who aids the crane.

I've seen different versions her and there, and this is one of the better ones, well-told and beautifully illustrated. ( )

When an old man rescues a trapped crane in this beautiful retelling of a traditional Japanese folktale, he and his wife are rewarded by the appearance of a beautiful and loving young daughter. Helping her new parents in every way she can, this young maiden weaves a lovely cloth for them to sell, bringing prosperity and good fortune into their lives. But her request that no one watch her while she weaves leads to trouble, as the old woman's curiosity gets the better of her, leading to a discovery - the maiden is in fact the crane that the old man rescued - which brings an end to their time together...

Originally published in Japan in 1966 as つるの おんがえし, Miyoko Matsunai's retelling of this classic Japanese folk story was translated into English in 1968 by American children's author Alvin Tresselt. It is a lovely book, featuring an enchanting and melancholy tale, and gorgeous artwork from illustrator Chihiro Iwasaki. I was already familiar with the variant of this story in which the crane appears as wife to the man who rescued her (see the Odds Bodkin and Sumiko Yagawa versions for different retellings), so I was interested to see what I thought of this version in which the crane is a daughter. On the whole, I found it equally heartbreaking, as curiosity and a lack of trust leads to the loss of a great blessing. I initially sought The Crane Maiden out because I am such a great admirer of Chihiro Iwasaki's artwork, which I had previously only seen in retellings of European folk and fairy-tales such as The Little Mermaid, The Red Shoes and The Wise Queen. Her luminous watercolor paintings are always so full of motion, with a gorgeous palette and expressive figures, and this title was no different, lending great beauty and delight to the reading of the story. If ever I get to Japan, I will surely visit the two museums dedicated to her work, in Tokyo and Azumino! This is one I highly recommend, to all young folklore enthusiasts, and to anyone who appreciates beautiful picture-book art. For my part, I finished it with a desire to read more from Matsutani, from Tresselt, and (naturally) from Iwasaki. If that's not a recommendation, I don't know what is! ( )