Pamela Allen’s children’s books were the soundtrack of my twin sons’ early years.

“Swish swash swoosh, sings the waves,” we would chant when we read Allen’s Grandpa and Thomas.

Reading the book in the United States far from family in Australia, it was even sweeter that Thomas’ gentle grandpa was a dead ringer for our toddlers Jim and Ned’s late grandfather, Jim. It was based on Allen’s late husband, also a Jim.

Enjoying Alexander’s Outing about a family of ducks visiting Sydney’s Domain and the Hyde Park, the boys, now 23, would outquack each other, and me. When poor Alexander falls into a deep hole, we would discuss what food we would drop to tide him over until help came.

“My books are made to be shared, it’s the voice that brings them to life,” Allen said on Sunday at the State L

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