The Rainbabies reads like a classical fairy tale, with the all the heft of a cross-generational standard. But you haven't heard this story before, and the setting is quietly and peacefully timely and contemporary. Illustrator Jim Lamarche makes this point with frequent visual references to the present, yet his fluid style, reminscent at times of the great master N.C. Wyeth, not only enhances the narrative, but ensures its classic feel. There is no tragedy here, only magic, and I was as entranced by the story were as my eight and six-year-old daughters. An aging couple, content in all respects except for their childlessness, find twelve tiny babies in the grass following a moonshower. They take the babies in and raise them carefully, rising to the challenge of several near-disasters that threaten the lives of their young charges. Their devotion to the children is palpable, and this helps to calm the reader's vague sense of unease over the cause of the tiny infants' frequent peril. Surely everything will be all right. Or will it? It's a neat twist. You're not sure where this is going, and the hint of impending doom (as if Lamarche's illustrations are not enough) creates a gem of a page-turner. Finally, the old man and woman are rewarded for their single-minded commitment, and the happily-ever-after denouement settles over the last page like a warm smile. Lamarche's closing illustration is a memorable image, a fairy tale in itself, a picure of such contentment that only the most jaded reader will fail to grow wistful for simpler times and simpler pleasures. The Rainbabies is a keeper -- a curl-up-in-the-chair-with-the-kids kind of book that is likely to grow worn and dog-eared from long and frequent use.