Like the smile on the dolls that Goldie Rosenzweig makes, this little book is captivating. Never mind that there's a lot more story than the small size would suggest, that, unlike the earlier Goffsteins, there's much more text than illustration; never mind even (though children may, a little) that the first two illustrations don't jibe with the text. The more you know Goldie, the more you appreciate her: going about her dead parents' house continuing their work of making dolls, oblivious of day and night until each one is complete; ordering a crate from Omus Hirschbein and explaining why she uses only pristine sticks of wood, not his clean, square scraps; visiting the bakery where a little girl buys a sugar cookie to share with a Goldie Rosenzweig doll. Then, in the shop where Mr. Solomon sells her dolls, Goldie is enchanted by a lovely little Chinese lamp; he will take her next three months' output for it, so Goldie carries it off. But Omus Hirschbein calls it "cute," calls her "a real artist — because you're crazy," and she has sad second thoughts; until the lampmaker enters her dreams, insisting "I made the lamp for you — whoever you are," and she realizes, with complete satisfaction, that that's just the way she works. Worth finding the right child or family for and then, again like Goldie's dolls, it will sell itself.