From the first sentence, we know that the idea of personal value is central to this book—especially as perceived by humans. Mr. Arable believes that a “little girl is one thing, a little runty pig is another,” but Fern believes Wilbur’s life is just as important as her own. Why might she feel this way? Ask the kids to name some of the ways she treated him like a baby.

But the fact is, he’s a pig, and his worth to adults is measurable. At five weeks old, Wilbur is worth six dollars; by December, he’ll be worth his weight in bacon and ham.  Of course he wants to live, but what makes him worth keeping around?  Ask the kids why Mr. Arable and Mr. Zuckerman keep their other livestock around. From a farmer’s perspective, those animals have more to give: they give birth to new livestock, lay eggs, provide wool, and give milk.

Ask if the pig, at the time he hears of his doom, is of value to anyone, even the other animals, in any way. What purpose does he serve for the sheep, the goose, and the rat? What good does he do Charlotte? Was she doing all right before he came along? (Point out that Charlotte has always had a strong sense of value, and makes neither apology nor excuse for her bloodthirsty, murderous ways. “It’s how I’m made,” she says. Read her confident”self-talk” as she does her weaving in Chapter 13, and tell the kids to keep it in mind when they’re facing a challenge of their own.) 

What makes Wilbur special? Until he finds out he’s destined to be breakfast meat, he’s just a carefree, childish pig with an undiscovered purpose. His fear of death sends him into hysterics, and Charlotte accuses him of carrying on like a child. Later he says he’s only average, not “terrific.” Ask the kids what makes him feel more valuable. With Charlotte’s reassurance and overnight spinning, he really does feel terrific standing under her web, swelling with pride, swinging his snout from side by side with newfound self-assurance. With others’ support, his sense of worthiness grows.

The fair prize proves Wilbur’s “living value” to others, but it’s his devotion to Charlotte that proves his real worth. Near the end, when he tosses Templeton into the air and commands him to get Charlotte’s sac, he’s proving he can take charge to do what’s right for a friend. (He also tells the rat to stop acting like a child, just as Charlotte had once said to Wilbur.) His purpose is no longer to save his own hide, but to care for his dear friend’s children for generations. If Charlotte had had one more word left in her, she might have ended by weaving WORTHY in her web.

Hands-on connections in this guide:  “My Fair Piggy” project, “A Web with a View” project, “One Bad Egg” activity, props that convey the idea of worthiness (medal, crate) or unworthiness (ax), creative writing handout 

This book seems like it ought to be called Wilbur’s Pen, except that there would be no Wilbur without Charlotte’s web! Such a noble, industrious spider deserves a closer look.

Ask the kids what they already knew about spiders before they read this book. They’ll probably say they knew that spiders have eight legs and weave webs to catch flies. (They might be surprised to learn that some eight-legged bugs aren’t spiders, and only about half of spiders catch their prey in webs.)  What did they learn about Charlotte A. Cavatica, short for the scientific name Araneus cavaticus?

Charlotte tells Wilbur lots about herself throughout this story:

Araneidae, or orb spiders, share even more fascinating (and gruesome) characteristics. You might want to go over some of the facts about that family, as given here by the entomology department at Iowa State. You might NOT want to point out that dear Charlotte would have two rows of eight eyes each, and vomit digestive fluid on her prey before sucking the dissolving bug guts in and out until they’re gone. Yum!

Let the kids know that E.B. White did research for a year before he began writing about Charlotte. He consulted with the curator of spiders at New York’s Museum of Natural History; he studied anatomical drawings; and he took the time to understand the barn spider’s habits and “temperament,” as he called it. He wanted to tell the truth about a barn spider’s life, including the fact that the female will die soon after laying her eggs. Still, even he couldn’t read his own book without crying when Charlotte dies! And we love him even more for that.  (Source: “Charlotte A. Cavatica: Bloodthirsty, Wise, and True” – NPR)

Hands-on connections in this guide: “A Web with a View” project, science handout

Each character in this story has a unique point of view with which others in the story might heartily disagree. Eight-year-old Fern, for instance, believes that animals have as much value as people do. Ask the kids if her father believes that as well. If not, why does he let Wilbur live? Point out that when we can see an idea from someone else’s point of view, we might change a decision even if we don’t change our minds about the bigger idea.

Charlotte, for instance, guzzles bug blood as if it were cider—from her point of view, there’s no tragedy in that. Ask the kids how Wilbur felt about that. Though the spider is “everything I don’t like,” he wants “to learn to like her” (Chapter 5). What changes his point of view of her bloodthirsty ways? How might we feel if a family of flies had been included in the story, and one of their children had been caught in Charlotte’s web?

Objects, too, are perceived very differently depending on the point of view. Ask the kids if all the animals like slop or rotten eggs, or even enjoy lying down on a hill of manure. Who likes and doesn’t like these things, and why?
It’s fun to act these ideas out, with the goal of understanding the opposing point of view—not necessarily agreeing with it, but understanding. For instance, you could ask one child to be Wilbur explaining why he loves slop, and have another be Fern explaining why it’s so gross. Then ask each actor to rephrase the other’s point of view reflectively.

Fern: “You love slop because it has so many textures, smells, and tastes, and it’s different every day.”

Wilbur: “You hate slop because it’s made up of leftovers that other people’s mouths have touched, and it’s all mixed up together.”

Voila! The art of understanding, while not necessarily agreeing, is a critical real-life skill.

Hands-on connections in this guide: “A Web with a View” project, “One Bad Egg” activity, “My Fair Piggy” project, BookBites slop, props that could be repulsive or appealing (manure, rat, spider, animal food)