Jill Lorenzini

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We all inherit legacies: stories, traditions and skills passed down through generations. Some legacies tie us not only to our ancestors but also to the natural world. These two picture books honor such legacies and the invaluable lessons we learn from those who come before us.

Written by Newbery Medalist Patricia MacLachlan and illustrated by Chris Sheban, When Grandfather Flew is a tender story of a grandfather whose love of birds creates a lasting connection with his grandchildren.

Binoculars in hand, Grandfather teaches his grandchildren the names of birds. But even when they aren’t out birding, Grandfather has wisdom to offer, which he shares when he tells stories of their late grandmother, helps an injured chickadee and explains why eagles are his favorite birds.

MacLachlan gently touches on themes of aging and loss, approaching the topic of death with both a child’s simple honesty and the hard-earned wisdom of a long life lived well. Her narration is plain-spoken, conversational and earnest.

Sheban illustrates on rough paper using soft, blurry pastels, with linework in watercolor and graphite. Every inch of his full-bleed artwork is filled with color and texture. There’s a hazy, faded feeling to his images that echoes Grandfather’s failing eyesight and fits the story perfectly. However, like details we don’t forget even as our memories wane, a few images stand out: a piercing hawk’s eye, a kestrel in flight. Easily the most striking image in the book is an eagle winging high above the landscape, soaring over barns and trees. When Grandfather Flew is not a tear-jerker, but this moment left me feeling overcome.

When Grandfather Flew is a moving and intimate book with an underlying sense of gravity. For anyone who’s ever looked to the sky as they remembered someone they loved, it will be a story that resonates.

Some legacies are passed from one family member to another, while others carry the weight and traditions of generations. The First Blade of Sweetgrass: A Native American Story, written by Suzanne Greenlaw and Gabriel Frey and illustrated by Nancy Baker, tells the story of a grandmother teaching her granddaughter to pick sweetgrass—just as her own grandmother taught her.

It is a day of firsts for Musqon. It’s her first time seeing the ocean as well as her first time picking sweetgrass with her grandmother. But Musqon has a lot to learn, so Grandmother patiently shows her how to find the sweetgrass that they will weave into baskets. While they work, Grandmother shares stories of their ancestors, of her own childhood and of the sweetgrass’s importance.

Co-authors Greenlaw and Frey, who are citizens of the Houlton Band of Maliseet Indians and Passamaquoddy Nation respectively, write with generations of tradition and culture behind them. Their prose has a calm, patient tone that echoes Grandmother’s gentle ways and is rich with descriptive language, including lush portrayals of the book’s marsh setting and poetic lines like “the grass gave itself to her hand.”

In an afterword, the authors share a brief description of sweetgrass itself and discuss its history and importance to the Native people of the Wabanaki Confederacy. A glossary of Passamaquoddy-Maliseet words used in the book rounds out the back matter.

Illustrator Baker uses soft, muted earth tones to create artwork that feels ageless and conveys a sense of history, purpose and connection to the land. Her lovely wind-swept landscapes are full of detail without ever seeming harsh or sharp. Images that depict Grandmother’s past and the ancestors who came before are set off in frames made of sweetgrass braids.

The First Blade of Sweetgrass is full of meaningful messages, but particularly poignant is Grandmother’s reminder: “If we never pick the first blade, we will never pick the last one. We must make sure there will be sweetgrass here for the next generation.”

We all inherit legacies: stories, traditions and skills passed down through generations. Some legacies tie us not only to our ancestors but also to the natural world.

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Book lovers know that stories often hold the seeds of change. These three picture book biographies introduce women whose dreams were too big and bold to be kept to themselves.

Pura’s Cuentos

Pura's Cuentos by Annette Bay Pimentel book coverAs a child in Puerto Rico, Pura Belpré learns Puerto Rican folktales from her grandmother. When Belpré immigrates to New York City, she takes her abuela’s stories with her. In busy, bustling Harlem, Belpré loves her job at a library. But when she decides to share the stories she learned as a child—stories that have not been published and therefore are not approved by the library—she begins a journey that will change storytelling forever. Pura’s Cuentos: How Pura Belpré Reshaped Libraries With Her Stories is an enchanting look at a woman who left an indelible mark on children’s literature.

Author Annette Bay Pimentel’s narration is warm, personal and full of the literary flourishes that denote a good storyteller. Magaly Morales’ upbeat illustrations use delightfully off-kilter perspectives to convey a sense of motion. Belpré’s life and the stories she tells collide in a colorful cacophony. Beloved creatures from folktales pop into many scenes. Vines and Spanish dialogue twine their way across spreads as barriers between real life and fiction fall away. Pura’s Cuentos is beautiful, joyful fun.

An author’s note, detailed source notes and a bibliography add significant depth, expanding on Belpré’s legacy of bilingual storytimes as well as her work as a writer and translator, which opened the worlds of libraries and reading to American children from Spanish-speaking backgrounds. Pura’s Cuentos will inspire readers to learn more about Belpré and the many recipients of the Pura Belpré Award, which honors Latinx authors and illustrators whose children’s books portray, affirm and celebrate the Latinx cultural experience. It’s clear that Belpré’s legacy will continue to resonate in children’s literature for generations to come.

Child of the Flower-Song People

Child of the Flower-Song People by Gloria Amescua book coverLike Belpré, Luz Jiménez was a storyteller, but she was also an artists’ model, teacher and advocate for the Nahua, the native people of Mexico. Born in 1897, Jiménez learned the Nahua language, traditions and stories and longed to share them with the world. Written by Gloria Amescua and illustrated by Duncan Tonatiuh, Child of the Flower-Song People is a reverential portrait of a woman who never lost sight of her dreams.

Amescua’s words are heavy with history and pride. She maintains a wonderful rhythm, employing repetition and other literary techniques. Vivid descriptions, such as “stars sprinkling the hammock of sky,” fill the text with the richness of Jiménez’s life. The Nahuatl word Xochicuicatl means “poetry” but translates as “flower-song,” and Amescua uses the extended metaphor of a flower inside Jiménez’s heart as a symbol for her hopes and stories.

In a beautiful reflection of this symbol, Tonatiuh includes bright blossoms on many spreads. Lively magenta flowers dot the book’s opening pages as Jiménez first learns the stories and legends of her people. A small vase of flowers sits in the classroom where Jiménez longs to learn to read. When she shares her stories, her words take shape and become flowers that float through the air and plant themselves at the feet of her students. In a clever and respectful tribute, Tonatiuh, a Pura Belpré Award winner himself, based several of his illustrations on works of art by Diego Rivera and other artists for whom Jiménez modeled.

Ostensibly a biography of Luz Jiménez, Child of the Flower-Song People beautifully portrays the spirit and culture of the Nahua people.

Nina

Nina by Traci N. Todd book coverSome storytellers use words to entertain listeners and readers, while others share their tales in song. Nina: A Story of Nina Simone gracefully brings the life of one such legendary musician into readers’ hearts.

Nina Simone is born Eunice Kathleen Waymon in 1930s North Carolina, where her musical talent is encouraged by her father, honed in the church where her mother is a minister and nurtured by her piano teacher. When she begins to play her music in clubs in Atlantic City, New Jersey, she adopts the name Nina Simone so that her minister mother won’t find out. From there, we follow Simone to her Carnegie Hall debut in 1963 and finally to her involvement in the American civil rights movement.

Traci N. Todd’s straightforward narration is honest and candid, occasionally punctuated by poetic lines, as when Simone enjoys the way Bach’s music “started softly, then tumbled to thunder, like Mama’s preaching.” A lengthy afterword takes readers deeper into Simone’s work during the civil rights movement and highlights the power her music still holds today.

Fans of Caldecott Honor illustrator Christian Robinson (Last Stop on Market Street, The Bench) will immediately recognize the bold, distinct shapes that are his hallmark. Robinson outdoes himself here. In two illustrations, he imposes iconic images from the civil rights movement—the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing in Birmingham, Alabama, and the March on Washington in 1963—inside the shape of Simone’s grand piano as she plays. When Simone’s music becomes “a raging storm of song,” Robinson’s art erupts with paper-collage flames that surround her and her band.

In Nina’s final spread, Robinson depicts Simone on stage, bowing to her audience, perhaps reflecting on the strength, hope and revolution she conveyed in her music. It’s a moment that gives readers space to contemplate the tremendous gift Simone left behind and the hope she offered for the future.

Book lovers know that stories often hold the seeds of change. These three picture book biographies introduce women whose dreams were too big and bold to be kept to themselves.

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In The Welcome Chair, friends and acclaimed decadeslong mainstays of children’s literature Rosemary Wells and Jerry Pinkney team up to tell a moving, memorable and quintessentially American story.

Inspired by Wells’ own ancestral history, the tale begins in the early 1800s as a young Bavarian boy named Sam sets off to achieve his dreams in the United States. A carpenter’s apprentice, Sam builds a lovely rocking chair that is handed down from family to family. As the years pass, each owner adds their own legacy to the chair, carving the word for welcome in their language at the top of its back panel. The story of the chair becomes the story of its people. There’s a Civil War soldier who fights against slavery, a determined Irish immigrant, a pair of nuns from the Dominican Republic, a compassionate doctor who works for the Red Cross, an infant orphaned by an earthquake in Haiti and more.

Although The Welcome Chair has a fairly high word count for a picture book, Wells’ straightforward narration keeps the story moving. Every line is considered and earnest, and the text is full of vivid descriptions. Pinkney’s illustrations are mesmerizing and iconic, covering every page with tiny, intriguing details. There’s a sketchy feel to his linework that gives the images dimension and a historical feel that’s both inviting and thoughtful. When paired with a soft, muted color palette, the effect evokes the way we often imagine history looks. Pinkney’s ability to capture the specifics of time and place while maintaining the story’s legendary spirit is a true gift; I cannot imagine an illustrator better suited for this story.

The kind of book that deserves to become a modern classic, The Welcome Chair pulls together themes of family, hard work, compassion, kindness and community in an honest and loving way. The book ends with what feels like a pause instead of a stop, because the chair’s story—like our stories—will continue. Who else will sit in the chair and rock their baby to sleep? Who may read or do their homework, curled up on its seat? What kind of futures might we imagine while perching on its sturdy frame? A tribute to America’s history as a nation of immigrants, The Welcome Chair truly welcomes all.

In The Welcome Chair, friends and acclaimed decadeslong mainstays of children’s literature Rosemary Wells and Jerry Pinkney team up to tell a moving, memorable and quintessentially American story.

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Marty is a lot like you and me. He has hobbies, a job and trouble deciding what to wear every day. For the most part, Marty fits in. But Marty is a little bit different, too. You see, he doesn’t exactly come from this planet, and it could be a problem if his true green-skinned self were to be revealed. But when an act of artistic expression leads to uninvited scrutiny, Marty begins to wonder whether he will ever truly belong on Earth. Rachel Noble and Zoey Abbott’s Marty is a charming story of acceptance, friendship and finding home.

You can’t help but like this little Martian. He’s a friendly shade of green with a simple, open face. Thanks to his flair for style and costume design, Marty can be anyone, anywhere, from the construction worker across the street to the skateboarder in the park or the barista behind the coffee shop counter. He lives in a big old tree outside the city that looks so homey and fun, it just might make you consider moving into the backyard.

Like Marty, this book feels like an old pal. Using gentle washes of subdued colors and few sharp lines, illustrator Abbott creates a welcoming, cozy world. Her art is full of tiny, playful details that add familiarity and cleverness and will have readers inspecting each page. Delightful vignettes of Marty digging through a laundry basket, bent over his sewing machine or modeling his synchronized swim attire are guaranteed to elicit smiles.

While Abbott’s artwork is cheekily detailed,Noble’s writing is straightforward and earnest. Noble uses some alliteration and repetition but forgoes fluffy, drawn-out exposition in favor of unpretentious, honest sentences. She narrates evenly and effortlessly, calmly bringing her characters from surprise to genuine curiosity and finally into comfortable understanding and fellowship.

Books with profound messages often seem to pulse with intensity and importance, demanding attention and action. Marty’s message is certainly profound, but it’s shared by example: a heartfelt invitation, an easy acceptance of differences, a shared laugh. Marty’s simple words of friendship and kindness may not be Earth-shattering, but they’re definitely Earth-brightening.

Marty is a lot like you and me. He has hobbies, a job and trouble deciding what to wear every day. For the most part, Marty fits in. But Marty is a little bit different, too.

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It doesn’t take much to bring the people we love into our thoughts. We see a favorite bird, hear the punchline of an often told joke or finally taste a recipe no one else has ever been able to reproduce, and we are instantly transported. Beautiful, sweet and warm, When Lola Visits will usher readers into their own fond memories through the story of a little girl and the summer she shares with her grandmother, her lola, who visits from the Philippines.

Author Michelle Sterling writes like someone in love with language, her text laden with assonance and alliteration, hyperbole and simile. Every page contains creative metaphors so precise that they’re almost tangible. From the scents of jasmine blossoms and swimming pool chlorine to newly sharpened pencils and mango jam bubbling on the burner, Sterling evokes not only lovely and yummy smells but also the ordinary, everyday smells that linger just beyond our recognition. Each description unlocks a sensory detail that draws readers further into the world of the story and the girl’s time with Lola, but also into their own warm summer recollections. Thanks to Sterling’s descriptive powers, you don’t have to have eaten mango jam or warm cassava cake fresh from the oven to know exactly how it tastes.

Illustrator Aaron Asis’ artwork is an equally magical and intriguing study in contrast. He works with broad strokes of soft, breezy colors and uncomplicated shapes that often fade out, edgeless. At the same time, he delicately details fruit in a bowl, dangling kitchen utensils and the fascinating clutter that seems to accompany grandparents and other older people. (What child can resist going through Grandma’s bag in search of treats or treasures?) Noticing the illustrations’ unusual perspectives and angles feels like gazing through the open eyes of a child.

Like all the best childhood memories of loved ones, When Lola Visits feels familiar, friendly and faded to perfection. It’s a little hazy with age, and a little more shimmery for the haze.

Beautiful, sweet and warm, When Lola Visits will usher readers into their own fond memories through the story of a little girl and the summer she shares with her grandmother, her lola, who visits from the Philippines.

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Some books offer a chance to escape, while others provide space for contemplation and reflection. It’s the rare book that does both. Bursting with insight, Shawn Harris’ Have You Ever Seen a Flower? transforms a trip to the mountains into a spirited voyage into our very consciousness.

The book begins with a tiny, colorful child, the only pop of brightness amid an intricate graphite city. Buildings tower around her, looming and glum. When the girl gets in a car and travels down a dark road away from the city, gray buildings give way to white emptiness before the book explodes with color. The vibrant hues that once gilded only the girl now surround her, with fields of warm-toned flowers and triangular mountains filled with all the shades of the rainbow. The illustrations grow and bloom surrealistically, as outstretched arms become the leaves of flowers, reaching toward the sun, and a drop of blood from a pricked finger becomes a meadow of crimson blossoms. 

All the while, Harris addresses readers directly in a series of wide-eyed observations and imaginative questions. “Have you ever seen a flower using nothing but your nose? Breathe deep . . . what do you see?” His language is playful and sprinkled with subtle moments of alliteration and assonance. 

Composed of sweeping colored pencil strokes, Harris’ art has a simplicity that belies its expert use of negative space and perspective. The illustrations don’t just carry the book’s narrative; they also deliver a beautiful metaphor as Have You Ever Seen a Flower? builds to an astonishing, all-encompassing declaration of connectedness: We are all flowers.

Have You Ever Seen a Flower? is an invitation to pause and take a moment to feel, imagine and experience the worlds around us and inside us. Its joy, color and hopefulness will ignite the imagination of anyone lucky enough to experience its magic.

Some books offer a chance to escape, while others provide space for contemplation and reflection. It’s the rare book that does both. Bursting with insight, Shawn Harris’ Have You Ever Seen a Flower? transforms a trip to the mountains into a spirited voyage into our very consciousness.

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Sunday has been feeling overworked and underappreciated, so she walks off the job, leaving the remaining days of the week wondering how they’ll fill her shoes. The auditions to find her replacement quickly descend into hilarious chaos as the proposed successors grow more far-fetched; even “UnicornsWithFlashlightsForHornsDay” gets an audience. Monday through Saturday are run ragged from evaluating potential days full of sweets, dogs, hats and superheroes, while in the background, a group of frustrated cats continues their campaign for “Caturday.” How will the days of the week ever find the perfect seventh day?

Bestselling author Brad Meltzer’s eclectic text is peppered with clever asides and loads of playful language as it bounces between narrative and dialogue, delivered energetically via speech bubbles. Pop culture and historical references run the gamut from Shark Week to Elbridge Gerry (James Madison’s vice president, for whom the practice of gerrymandering is named), sure to earn a laugh from readers of every age.

Caldecott Medalist Dan Santat (The Adventures of Beekle) illustrates A New Day with all the energy and bustle of a zany animated movie. Cheerful and colorful, every page is eye-catching, entertaining and full of enticing details. Saturday rocks a beige cardigan that recalls Jeff Bridges’ iconic Big Lebowski character, but its pattern is formed by knitted letter z’s. Children gobble boxes labelled “CAN-D” and “SHOOGR.” The anthropomorphized days are instantly recognizable characters with the appearances and personalities we’d expect from them. Monday has a tie and holds a clipboard; Thursday has a laid-back, almost-end-of-the-week smirk; and Friday wears a Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts and flip-flops.

While A New Day begins like a rough day at the office and unwinds like a sugar-high explosion, it never loses its sense of purpose and teamwork. An enormously fun read with a heaping side of silliness, A New Day doesn’t take itself too seriously. It’s an earnest reminder that, with a little creativity and thoughtfulness, we can make each day a day worth celebrating.

Sunday has been feeling overworked and underappreciated, so she walks off the job, leaving the remaining days of the week wondering how they’ll fill her shoes. The auditions to find her replacement quickly descend into hilarious chaos as the proposed successors grow more far-fetched.

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While some books light paths with their words, other books don’t need words to shine. Gideon Sterer and and Mariachiara Di Giorgio’s The Midnight Fair may be a wordless picture book, but its story is clear, compelling and utterly enchanting.

When trucks and trailers arrive at an open field, forest animals watch their home transform into a lively carnival, complete with roller coasters, games and throngs of people. But when the crowds leave for the night, the carnival truly comes to life. Raccoons and bears ride the roller coaster, their arms in the air as it rockets down the track. A deer exchanges a sprig of berries for French fries at the concession stand. A fox plays the ring-toss game (run by a deer) and wins a goldfish in a plastic bag for a prize. The animals crash bumper cars and wave to one another as they whirl by on the carousel.

Through clever use of framing and perspective, Sterer and Di Giorgio invite readers to be a part of each moment. We watch from above as furry friends spin in teacups below. We’re behind the counter as an earnest baby bear pushes his acorns toward us to buy a tantalizing pink and white ice cream cone. When dawn arrives, the animals vanish into the forest; the entire evening might have been a dream if not for the nuts and twigs bursting from every cash bucket as the watchman makes his morning rounds.

Despite all the merriment, The Midnight Fair is much more than a cute story about animals having fun. It’s entertaining and clever, but it never devolves into flippancy or silliness. Unhampered by the solidity and clarity of text, it maintains an ethereal aura of mystery and a sense of quiet dignity not often found in picture books with anthropomorphic animal protagonists.

Every inch of illustrator Di Giorgio’s art is captivating, from a scene in which the silhouetted creatures’ eyes glow in the dusk as they emerge from the woods to a poignant moment by the lake near the story’s end. But when the carnival lights come on, her illustrations become truly spellbinding. Gleaming and golden, The Midnight Fair radiates magic. It’s truly exceptional.

While some books light paths with their words, other books don’t need words to shine. The Midnight Fair may be a wordless picture book, but its story is clear, compelling and utterly enchanting.

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All readers have books that feel like their “safe spaces.” Some of us retreat into fantasy or stories from decades past. Some seek laughter. Others find refuge in nonfiction or in intimate, confessional memoirs. Even the littlest readers among us need books to call home. A Story for Small Bear cradles a tale of playful curiosity and exploration in the warm, sheltering arms of home.

As winter draws closer, Small Bear and Mama have things to do before they can begin hibernating. They must make sure they have a warm winter den, clean fur and full bellies. It’s hard for Small Bear to say goodbye to all the forest things she loves, but if she works quickly, she will have time for the thing she loves most: bedtime stories from Mama.

Author Alice B. McGinty’s child-friendly narration embraces descriptive language, personifying the winter’s chill and making use of repetition and alliteration that will bring the littlest readers into her story as well as entertain the big ones. McGinty’s calm, even tone makes this the perfect last-story-before-sleep book.

Illustrator Richard Jones paints a world that feels vibrant and alive, even as it’s preparing for a long winter nap. His images have a lushness to them and a wonderful depth of field, as autumn leaves and spruce trees overlap with fallen pinecones and wildflowers in the book’s spreads. Rabbits peek out here and there, birds dot the branches and the last of the fall grass fills the foreground. The images have a near-tangible texture; the bears’ fur appears soft and warm, the cool lake water looks crisp, and you can practically hear the rustle and crunch of dry leaves. His autumnal color palette of warm russets, gleaming golds and pinecone greens is the story’s ideal complement. When winter finally arrives, it is equally tranquil and lovely; there’s no shocking bright-white backdrop to pull us out of this placid, reassuring world. Small Bear and Mama’s gentle, curious and loving facial expressions round out each cozy page. This is a book with no sharp edges.

The perfect book for fall, A Story for Small Bear has a simple message: Winter may be coming, but everything will be all right. Our house is cozy, you are safe, and we have plenty of stories to keep us company as we ride out the cold together.

A Story for Small Bear cradles a tale of playful curiosity and exploration in the warm, sheltering arms of home. As winter draws closer, Small Bear and Mama have things to do before they can begin hibernating. They must make sure they have a warm winter den, clean fur and full bellies.

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Our most beloved stories seem to grow each time we tell them, expanding to encompass new ideas we’ve come to treasure as well as familiar elements we hold dear. Jerry Pinkney brings a well-trod tale to the surface and fills it with new life in The Little Mermaid.

Pinkney has been a fixture in children’s literature for more than five decades. His distinctively detailed watercolor illustrations lend a sense of majesty and depth to every book he touches. Many of his acclaimed titles are adaptations of folk and fairy tales, including his Caldecott Medal-winning The Lion and the Mouse and the Caldecott Honor books John Henry (written by Julius Lester) and The Ugly Duckling.

In The Little Mermaid, Pinkney creates a lavish and vibrant world—three worlds, actually. Underwater, the merfolk’s kingdom teems with life, bubbling and busy. Amid cool blues and greens, intriguing ocean creatures, including fish, eels and turtles, fill the pages, hiding in every nook and cranny. Above the surface, waves roll onto a sandy beach under a warm yellow sun as gulls swoop through the air. Finally, deep down below in a skeletal lair, a truly terrifying Sea Witch and hissing serpents are sure to induce shudders.

Though The Little Mermaid would be a success solely on the merits of Pinkney’s illustrations, his writing is equally strong. He employs vivid language that gives the book an unusually elevated, sophisticated tone. There’s a marvelous sense that Pinkney is telling this story exactly the way he would if he could gather us together around a crackling fireplace to trade tales late into the night.

The combination of rich language and lush artwork could overwhelm a less experienced creator, but in Pinkney’s accomplished hands, it’s exactly right. The Little Mermaid stands out as an impressive addition to the body of work of one of the most acclaimed children’s book creators of all time, and as a worthy rendition of a classic tale that has lured readers and storytellers alike for generations.

Our most beloved stories seem to grow each time we tell them, expanding to encompass new ideas we’ve come to treasure as well as familiar elements we hold dear. Jerry Pinkney brings a well-trod tale to the surface and fills it with new life in The Little Mermaid.

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Journey under the sea in The Ocean Calls and discover the story of South Korea’s haenyeo.

Dayeon’s grandma is like a mermaid, exploring the ocean’s depths without an oxygen tank, then bringing abalones, octopus and other creatures to the surface. For Grandma and her fellow haenyeo, the water is home—a home she will teach her granddaughter how to find. But being a haenyeo is about more than seeking treasures beneath the waves; it’s a tradition that goes back hundreds of years. In the 1600s, South Korean women whose husbands were away in the military took on the task of gathering the king’s annual tribute of abalone. In 2016, the women known as “Korea’s granny mermaids” were placed on UNESCO’s Representative List of the Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity.

Author Tina Cho writes with clear reverence for the haenyeo and narrates with resonant simplicity and honesty. She infuses Dayeon’s fictional story with details about the haenyeo tradition and way of life. We see the haenyeo carrying their gear to the beach, practicing their diving breath, exhaling with a whistling sound called sumbisori and gathering after a dive in the bulteok, a communal space on the beach, their worn faces full of determination and pride.

Jess X. Snow’s illustrations are saturated with wide strokes of deep blues and purples, and their use of light is masterful as they transport readers below the waves to peer up at the sun on the water’s surface. Washes of color contrast with intricately drawn shells and fish to create a world so encompassing and vivid, I found myself holding my breath with each dive. 

Journey under the sea in The Ocean Calls and discover the story of South Korea’s haenyeo. Dayeon’s grandma is like a mermaid, exploring the ocean’s depths without an oxygen tank, then bringing abalones, octopus and other creatures to the surface. For Grandma and her fellow haenyeo, the water is home—a home she will teach her […]
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Books, like friends, have distinct personalities. Some are the life of the party, loudly and boldly calling for attention from their spot on the shelf in the bookstore. Others sit calmly by your side, sympathetic and encouraging, waiting politely to be read. Lauren Castillo’s Our Friend Hedgehog: The Story of Us is one of these companionable volumes, an instantly classic tribute to friendship.

When Hedgehog’s beloved stuffed dog is lost in a storm, Hedgehog, too, feels lost. But when several new animals join in the search for Mutty, Hedgehog’s world becomes far bigger, far true-friend-lier and far more full of life than she ever imagined it could be.

Inspired by the Castillo’s own experience of moving away from friends, Our Friend Hedgehog has an earnest and intimate feel. Although its characters tend to fall into storybook archetypes (Owl is wise and verbose, Beaver is grumpy but industrious), their familiarity is endearing rather than derivative. Castillo’s child-friendly narration carries a sense of youthful honesty and openness. Perfectly accessible to young readers, the heavily illustrated book offers countless opportunities for reading comprehension practice. Castillo employs interesting vocabulary words, personification and foreshadowing that will encourage growing readers to put themselves in the characters’ shoes and ask, “What will happen next?”

Castillo, who received a Caldecott Honor for Nana in the City, uses illustrated Polaroid-style instant photographs to introduce each chapter, tying the story together with an underlying theme of scrapbook memories. Soft lines and a variety of textures add movement while color and fluctuating scale (giant leaning trees, overlarge button decorations) cultivate unique atmospheres for each turn of this tale. As the opener for a new chapter book series, Our Friend Hedgehog promises more cheerfully illustrated escapades to come.

Full of empathetic characters, Our Friend Hedgehog doesn’t holler for attention, nor do its moral sensibilities land with thuds. Instead, it’s a gentle book about the gifts new friends bring into our lives: clear eyes on a foggy day, companionship on an unfamiliar path and, best of all, a hand to pull us ashore when the waters seem too deep.

Books, like friends, have distinct personalities. Some are the life of the party, loudly and boldly calling for attention from their spot on the shelf in the bookstore. Others sit calmly by your side, sympathetic and encouraging, waiting politely to be read. Lauren Castillo’s Our Friend Hedgehog: The Story of Us is one of these […]
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Paolo the dachshund wants to see every part of Rome, his busy, beautiful city. The crowds, the noises and the smells of Rome call to him like they do to the eager tourists. But there’s always a door and his owner’s foot blocking his way . . . until, one glorious day, there isn’t.

While it is impossible for Paolo to see all of Rome, author Mac Barnett and illustrator Claire Keane capture the city’s essence dazzlingly, from the Colosseum to Caravaggio, the Pantheon to the Pope’s Swiss Guard. Cultural references and clever historical nods (including Paolo’s wry and ironic triumph over a gang of cats in the very spot where Caesar died) give readers a true sense of place and past that’s both reverential and humorous.

Illustrator Claire Keane’s inspired images feel familiar and timeless; as they do in the great city itself, the old and new merge companionably in her spreads. Thick, bold strokes, like energetic sketches in an artist’s notebook, outline the streets, ruins and characters. Colors collide pleasantly over a background textured like a brick wall, giving the pictures a lush yet gritty appearance. Italian words and names impart authenticity, and Barnett’s remarkable and sophisticated narration enriches the narrative and readers alike.

For anyone who knows and loves Rome (and who could know Rome without loving it?), Paolo’s tale is a captivating love letter to the city and its adventurous spirit. And for those who’ve never been to the Eternal City, Paolo, Emperor of Rome is an enchanting introduction and an invitation to fall under its spell. Once you’ve visited, you’ll long to return.

Paolo the dachshund wants to see every part of Rome, his busy, beautiful city. The crowds, the noises and the smells of Rome call to him like they do to the eager tourists. But there’s always a door and his owner’s foot blocking his way . . . until, one glorious day, there isn’t. While […]

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