"Earth," said Big Momma, "Get over here." And it did. All one big ball of mud it was, nothing much to look at. Baby liked it all right just the way it was, but Big Momma wasn’t finished yet. When Big Momma makes the world, she doesn’t mess around. With a little baby on her hip and laundry piling up, she demands light and dark, earth and sky, creepers and crawlers, and lots of folks to trade stories with on the front porch. And when the work is done, Big Momma, she is pleased all right. "That’s good," she says. "That’s real good." With down-home language and infectious rhythms, storyteller Phyllis Root spins a creation myth like no other, brilliantly illustrated by the incomparable Helen Oxenbury.