THE SEA CHEST, written by Toni Buzzeo, illustrated by Mary Grandpre, Dial Books for Young Readers, New York, 2002, 32 pages, hardcover, $16.99.

Windham author Toni Buzzeo spent the first 10 years of her life as an only child longing for a little sister to focus her love on. Finally, her family took in a foster child, who was later adopted by someone else. Then her mother became pregnant with Karen. Buzzeo was elated. “Photos show me in adoring poses with both sisters,” she said. “My face was glowing.”

Eight years later, Buzzeo, an elementary-school media specialist, made an inspiring discovery. In a video, she found a legend associated with the Hendricks Head Lighthouse. She felt passionately that the story needed to be told.

When Buzzeo tried to get it on paper, she knew something was missing. She didn’t realize that piece was a main character until her friend and mentor, Jane Kurtz, commented that it sounded like a sister story. Suddenly, memories and emotions from her childhood provided the spark that brought her tale to life.

As “The Sea Chest” opens, a little girl sits on an elderly relative’s lap. Together they look at a photograph. Although the scene outside the window is of a city at dusk, the cozy room is rich with mementos – a miniature lighthouse, a jar of sea glass, shells – of the seashore. Not surprisingly, the childhood Aunt Maita begins to talk about was set on a Maine island.

Young Maita spent the first 10 years of her life with just her lighthouse-keeper father and mother for company. Their only link with the mainland was the supply boat that carried provisions, home-school lessons and news of the outside world. She yearned for the presence of another child.

One stormy night, Maita’s father spotted a ship beyond his reach. In the morning, he discovered a bundle of mattresses tied up in sailor’s knots. A kitten-like cry came from the depths of the parcel. When the rope was untied, a leather sea chest containing very precious cargo was revealed.

Buzzeo’s free-form poetry tells the story succinctly but vividly. Her moods range from the drama of the raging storm (In the frozen dark, the wind shrieked/as wave upon colossal wave/hurled against our rock shore,/tossing up a churning foam/that battered the parlor windows/and trapped the reflection of firelight/upon the fragile pane) to the tenderness of longing for companionship (Again I heard the mewl,/and my heart soared with hope,/like the gulls reeling overhead,/breaking their morning silence/with their hunger).

Mary Grandpre’s illustrations perfectly complement Buzzeo’s text. Cream-hued pages have the appearance of weathered parchment. Her oil paintings beautifully capture texture – Maita’s tousled curls – and motion – gulls soaring. But light is her forte. In the picture of Maita and her mother gazing fearfully out the window at her father struggling against the gale, the fury of nature is contrasted with the soft illumination of a single candle. But the flame flickers and the curtain is tossed by wind leaking through the cracks.

Buzzeo loved the cover painting so much that she bought it to hang in her home. “It’s magical,” she said. “It’s so beautiful, so full of imagery: the rise of the sea, the sun sparkling on the water.”

Although Buzzeo has written for adults before, this is her first picture book.

“Two things were most rewarding about writing it,” she said. “One was finding a story set all in Maine, a place I love so much. The other was that it spoke emotionally to me so much.”

She hopes that reading “The Sea Chest” will make families more aware of the warmth and connection in their own homes.