Why are there only crap children's books?

I have been attempting to locate some 'Irish' books to bring home to my family. What better gift from an academically-minded Auntie/Daughter, right? And, why not find something uniquely Irish!

This becomes an issue because 1. a significant portion of my studies is deconstructing the formation of cultural stereotypes, particularly in Irish literature/theatre, and 2. most Children's books are morally questionable or uninteresting. I will elaborate on my frustrations for those who feel I am making a big deal out of nothing (mostly so you will have a 'big deal' to reinforce your astute observation).

Example 1: I considered bringing my Mom a little collection of Oscar Wilde children's stories. Ignoring the fact that Wilde spent most of his life in England and, while having been born in Ireland, didn't necessarily continue to define himself by his nation of origin thereby making it of questionable value as an 'Irish' gift-- okay, right, ATTEMPTING to ignore this minor question of how to define Wilde's nationality of choice (if he even had one), I was delighted to read The Happy Prince after wading through lots of crap picture books. As I approached the end, I began to have doubt about purchasing the book because I was vaguely aware that the ending (which I couldn't quite recall) would be problematic. Sure enough, the story is wrapped up with God sending an Angel...while it's a lovely story that I continue to value, personally, I feel it is inappropriate to give an explicitly religious story when I know the school where it will be used is secular.

Problem two: I found a book about a giant living in Kerry in 'old times' that looked promising, especially with the prominent seal for an award it had received. In the story, the village people find the giant to be a nice enough individual but his size was a problem. For numerous reasons all stemming from the awkwardness of his size, they approached the King of Kerry for a solution. He approached the Druid, gave him a bag of gold, and asked the Druid to sort this out. So the Druid makes a stew with lots of herbs and whatnot to make the giant fall asleep. Unknowingly, the giant accepts the invitation to dinner, eats the stew, and goes to sleep for a couple hundred years. Over the years, dirt and grass build up on top of him and he becomes an island that is quite popular with the tourists. When he wakes up, everyone is very upset, particularly the tourists who are terrified of the giant and angry that the scenic vista was ruined. An angry mob gather outside the tourism office to decide on a solution (one person hold a sign reading 'Giants are bad for business'). They decide someone must go talk with the giant; a little girl volunteers. As the helicopter drops her near the giant, she thinks to herself that it would be great fun to have a giant for a friend, but everyone is so upset that she should stick to the plan. The giant is crying and very sad because no one likes him; the girl says that is not true because people used to travel from around the world to see him when he was sleeping. The giant is very happy to learn this and willingly consumes stuff to make him sleep again.

Maybe I'm too sensitive. Maybe it's more of that hormone-influenced emotion. But I cannot in good conscience purchase either of those works (for VERY different reasons). Unfortunately, I have more stories about the sad state of affairs in the world of children's literature, but these two seemed to provide a bit of insight into the matter. And I would probably end up in a fit of anger or a heap of sobs if I went into more examples at this moment.

If you have any books to recommend to renew my faith in children's books, please let me know. I welcome that burst of hope!