What “The Berry Pickers” Taught Me About Family, Secrets, and the Stories We Carry

Gabby's Bookclub: I read this one in May 2025

Photo by Tiberiu: Pexels

Hello, dears!

I’m so excited to kick off the very first edition of our Book Club series. I hope to make it a space where we can gather as parents, readers, and storytellers to reflect on the books that move us and the stories we carry.

As a mom of three, I often think about the invisible threads that tie us together as a family: the stories we tell, the memories we share, and yes, sometimes the secrets we keep. Books are one way I make sense of it all, and I’d love for you to join me on this journey.

This Month’s Pick: The Berry Pickers by Amanda Peters

Both sides of my family and my hubby’s are intricate in terms of inherited beliefs and so, so many stories!

Reading Amanda Peters’ The Berry Pickers left me reflecting deeply on these themes and on the ways love, loss, and longing shape the people we become.

A story rooted in family and loss

The Berry Pickers begins in 1962, when a Mi’kmaq family from Nova Scotia travels to Maine for the blueberry harvest. Their youngest daughter, Ruthie, disappears without a trace, last seen by her six-year-old brother, Joe. The family’s grief is palpable, and the loss reverberates through decades, shaping Joe’s life with guilt and sorrow. Meanwhile, in a nearby town, a girl named Norma grows up in an affluent but emotionally distant household. She keeps being plagued by dreams and a sense that something about her life doesn’t quite fit. As the years pass, secrets unravel, and the truth about Ruthie’s disappearance slowly comes to light.

What resonated as a parent

What struck me most about this novel was its honest portrayal of how families respond to trauma over a lifetime. Peters writes with deep empathy about the weight of unanswered questions and the ache of not knowing.

Joe’s guilt and Norma’s search for belonging are two sides of the same coin: both are haunted by what’s missing, by the silence that settles over their families.

As a mother, I was especially moved by the depiction of Ruthie’s mother, who “harnessed the sadness” and kept hope alive for decades, believing her daughter was out there somewhere, living a life she could only imagine. It made me think about the lengths we go to for our children, the ways we hold onto hope even when the world tells us to let go.

The power and the cost of secrets

One of the novel’s most powerful themes is the burden of secrets. It felt like a burden, through the lines, deeply.

Norma’s parents, desperate to protect her and themselves, create a world built on silence and half-truths. I cannot imagine how such a life was worth living, honestly. Perhaps it leads back to values.

As Norma grows, so does her intuition that something is amiss. The story is all about how secrets, even those kept out of love, can cast long shadows, often times across generations.

I started reflecting more on the stories we tell in our own families.

What do we share? What do we hold back? How do we help our children make sense of their own histories, especially the painful parts?

Identity, belonging, and the importance of truth

Norma’s journey is one of searching for identity and belonging. It felt like a quest that would resonate with anyone who has ever felt out of place or wondered about their roots.

The novel doesn’t shy away from the pain of cultural loss and the impact of discrimination. It also offers hope, again deeply felt through the lines: the possibility of healing, reconciliation, and the rediscovery of self.

Lessons for my own family

Reading The Berry Pickers made me want to be more intentional about the stories I share with my children. I call it intentional parenting.

I want them to know where they come from, to feel the strength of their roots, and to understand that even when families are fractured by loss or secrets, love can endure and, sometimes, even heal. That’s what motivates me to write and tell my stories and our stories, too.

It also reminded me to listen to the questions my children ask and to the ones they don’t yet have words for. This came as a revelation of sorts. Sometimes, as in the novel, the things left unsaid are the ones that shape us most. Still, our core value as a family is communication, so we try to express to the best of our capabilities.

In the end, hope and forgiveness

Despite its heavy themes, The Berry Pickers is a story of hope and forgiveness. It’s about the persistence of love, even in the face of unimaginable loss, and the ways families find their way back to each other. It is not always perfect, but nevertheless, done with grace and courage.

This novel will move you, challenge you, and leave you thinking about your own family’s stories. I can’t recommend this one enough.

Have you read The Berry Pickers? How do you talk about family history and secrets with your kids? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

Let’s keep the conversation going in the comments and/or in the chat. Let’s keep exploring the messy, beautiful work of raising thoughtful, resilient kids, one story at a time.

Let’s make Saturdays our reading day

As we begin this Bookclub adventure, I want to invite you to set aside a little time each Saturday for reading. Start with a few pages before breakfast, a chapter during nap time, or a quiet evening with a cup of tea.

Once or twice a month, I’ll share a new review and open up the conversation for us to discuss what we’re reading. I am especially interested in talking about how books connect to our lives as parents and what lessons we’re carrying forward.

If you’ve read The Berry Pickers or if you have thoughts about family stories, secrets, or parenting, please share in the comments or join the chat. And if you come across a book that touches on parenting and the stories we inherit or create, I’d love your recommendations!

This is a space where we can celebrate the messy, beautiful work of raising thoughtful and resilient kids, one story at a time.

See you soon, and happy reading!

P.S. Don’t forget: Saturdays are for reading.

💗 I appreciate your support.💗

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