(2) K-3 Illustrated by Loren Long. The duo behind Love (rev. 3/18) returns with another meaningful picture book meant to tug on readers' heartstrings -- this time, on the topic of home. It begins with glimpses into the mundane moments people may experience every day: a parent rocks a baby to sleep, a child watches their grandfather fishing from his houseboat, a family hurries out the door for a busy day. The second-person text describes not just the accompanying images but also the sounds and sensations: the vibration of a construction site, the hum of traffic. However, with a poignant reminder, the tone shifts: "But a day may come when you learn how a home can be lost." A family clings to one another as emergency workers carry debris from a storm. A child looks through a pickup truck's rear window, belongings packed in the back, as their no-longer-home recedes in the distance. Whether depicting calm or disaster, Long's art is full of emotion, and each of his textured acrylic paintings is a master class in color and shading. The story shifts once again to highlight all of the wonder and beauty of our greater home, Earth, reminding us that though four walls may be lost, the concept of home is much bigger.

Reviewer: Hill Saxton | Horn Book Magazine Issue: March, 2025

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Gabriela Larios. "The nipa hut is family too." Yelena Mendoza lives in a traditional nipa hut in the Philippines with her family. Made from palm leaves and bamboo, the structure has stood for many generations, lovingly cared for and repaired by its inhabitants when it needs "a change of clothes." During a big storm, the nipa hut "sways," "shakes," and "flinches." A gust of wind pushes the windows open, bringing in rain and cold; are "Yelena and the nipa hut...no match for the storm"? With Papa's help, they make it through -- though afterward the nipa hut is in need of repairs. "'You will be okay,' [Yelena] says. 'Thank you for taking care of us.'" Abalos's warm text is true to a child's perspective; Larios's color-saturated illustrations, teeming with wildlife and plants native to the Philippines, have a compellingly naif quality. Details in the art enhance the story: Papa has a prosthetic leg; a framed portrait on the wall might be Yelena and baby brother Marco's mother, whom the story doesn't mention. An author's note dives deeper into the history and architectural influence of the nipa hut (its structural flexibility inspired the first skyscraper), the Philippines, and climate change and includes a glossary of Tagalog words.

Reviewer: Gabi K. Huesca | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2024

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Magdalena Mora. Kiki Karpovich feels too shy to join in playing with the other kids on her vibrant, racially diverse city street. One day she looks down at the sidewalk and notices something odd: "The asphalt glistened like water in the heat. Kiki saw something...moving...a giant fish!...'Help,' it seemed to say." She rushes the creature inside, puts it in the bathtub, and fills up the tub, thus saving its life. When the grateful fish, surprisingly, offers up a wish, Kiki asks to be granted lots of friends. This request is too big for our "fish of small wishes," so Kiki goes away to think. "I wish I weren't so shy," she says to the (now larger) fish, but this is also beyond its scope. The next day she has a new idea, including a way to help the fish, but again: no deal. Finally, in contemplating their interactions, she's able to fulfill her own wishes and assist her fishy friend. Color-splashed and varied mixed-media illustrations ably and playfully reflect both the story's fantastical and down-to-earth elements. An appended note describes Arnold's inspiration: a story her grandmother told about her own kindhearted grandfather's fish rescue. ("No gefilte fish for Passover" that year.)

Reviewer: Elissa Gershowitz | Horn Book Magazine Issue: May, 2024

(1) K-3 Illustrated by Sydney Smith. "Santa doesn't do anything special" for Christmas?! The elves are embarrassed not to have thought about it before: after a night of delivering toys, Santa just sleeps in an extra half hour and then gets back to work. This Christmas morning, the elves surprise their boss with breakfast in bed. Then they all chop down a "handsome spruce," hang lights around the North Pole, and bake cookies for "you know who." There are stockings, presents (delivered by a polar bear in a Santa suit), carols, and a Christmas feast. Barnett's wry text is full of affection for his characters, and Smith's rich watercolor and gouache illustrations infuse both the outdoor North Pole and interior scenes with good cheer.

Reviewer: Kitty Flynn | Horn Book Magazine Issue: November, 2024

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Jackie Traverse. Daniel's (Sometimes I Feel like a Fox; Sometimes I Feel like a River) latest offering invites readers to commune with trees. Short first-person verses assign attributes to twelve different trees ("Sometimes I feel like a maple, / full and most generous... / Sometimes I feel like a birch, / smooth and fresh, anew"), following the cycle of the year from early spring to late winter. Traverse's lush acrylic and gouache illustrations never depict a tree in its entirety, with the tops always breaking the edge of the page. This choice suggests that art cannot fully capture the trees' majesty and en-courages readers to imagine what lies beyond the confines of the page, reinforcing Daniel's core concept that there is more to trees than meets the eye. Back matter offers thumbnail images of each tree, restating their names and highlighting the attributes Daniel's verses assigned to them--generosity for the maple, optimism for the birch, and so on. A closing author's note begins, "Like my Algonquin ancestors, I believe that trees are ­sentient beings with spirits who can feel things," prompting readers to reflect on what they, in turn, feel as they consider this Indidenous perspective and how it inspired this book.

Reviewer: Megan Dowd Lambert | Horn Book Magazine Issue: May, 2024

(1) K-3 Illustrated by Frank Morrison. Harper and Morrison's vibrant picture book focuses on a Black tween girl's trip through her city neighborhood on her way to a dance audition. She leaps -- sometimes exuberantly blowing a pink bubble-gum bubble in the air -- joyfully through scenes that include a subway, a street crossing, a busy playground, and other locations, with a multicultural group of people in the background. The narrator champions her neighborhood as a home to "brilliant minds" and "the birthplace of aerosol masterpieces, lyrical wordplay, and cardboard dance floors." Morrison's illustrations provide rich sensory detail and energy to support the narrator's observations of those who "sparkle under streetlamps." At the same time, words and images work collectively to challenge readers to slow down and pay attention to the wonders of city life that are easy to misunderstand or dismiss, as seen through the narrator's experience. Though the narrator says, "The streets look mean / from a birds-eye view," the text is a counternarrative for those with limited understandings of urban places that veer to the negative or deficit-based, challenging readers to "forget what you heard," look closer, and stay awhile. Harper's block (she hails from the Bronx) is alive, aptly called "my soul," and supported by Morrison's images and warm colors, a refreshing invitation to visit or imagine this memorable place.

Reviewer: Kim Parker | Horn Book Magazine Issue: March, 2024

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Madelyn Goodnight. This warm and thought-provoking picture book celebrates the many different ways that families come together to give thanks in the fall season. Hulse's spare, meaningful text honors a table with room for "old traditions, and new ones, too," as loved ones gather in suburban homes and in city apartments. Goodnight's expressive illustrations, created using paper, graphite, and digital tools, portray various races, ethnicities, and abilities. The book alludes to the ways Thanksgiving is painful for some by showing an Indigenous family visiting a memorial for a Wampanoag tribal chief; an artist's note provides more context.

Reviewer: | Horn Book Magazine Issue: November, 2024

(2) PS One of the earliest niceties we often aim to instill in young children is the importance of saying "thank you." In this joyful and earnest picture book, however, the phrase simply bubbles up from the child narrator in appreciation for the world around them. The child begins their ode of gratitude by thanking the moon and sun, and from there each sincere "thank you" becomes more whimsical and imaginative. The child thanks a tree for its shade; the red cap on their head for stopping their "thoughts from floating up, up, and away"; blue and yellow for making green. After forgetting the reason to thank an elephant, the child thanks "the Tyrannosaurus for being the longest word I know." Gratitude continues to spill over for the child's food, loved ones, and bicycle, but what will happen when there's nothing more to say "thank you" for? The digitally rendered mixed-media illustrations capture a wide range of textures in the child's world, from a rock's rough surface to a bubbly bath, while relying on simplified shapes that maintain a sense of playfulness and naivete. The text is rhythmic and lyrical, with occasional rhyme and an ear-pleasing flow. A beautiful example of the way that books for children can guide rather than instruct. Thank you, Jarvis, for this book! (A Spanish edition, Gracias, will be released in September from NubeOcho.)

Reviewer: | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2024

(1) K-3 Illustrated by Beatriz Gutiérrez Hernández. When the nocturnal animals that surround a family's house in the desert come out, "they howl and buzz and hoot -- a chorus in need of a band." On the ample porch, each family member plays an instrument (some passed down from ancestors) that complements a natural sound -- maracas that sound like rattlesnakes, a flute "calling down the wind." The child narrator is learning to play guitar from Grandma and practices diligently to be able to join in the nightly concert. Gutiérrez Hernández's expansive illustrations--digitally rendered from acrylic gouache and colored pencil--open with sunny pinks and gradually deepen into inky blue-greens and pearlescent whites as night falls. Kemp's lyrical metaphors set the desert stage, and "an audience of [the family's] ancestors" dances in the stars above and in their memories. The narrator's parents remind them that nature is full of memories: the moon is "a memory of the sun," and Mami sings "about the cacti remembering the rain." A gorgeous, intergenerational reflection on being mindful of the present while remembering and honoring loved ones from the past. Notes from author and illustrator are appended. Concurrently published in Spanish as Cancisn del desiertó.

Reviewer: | Horn Book Magazine Issue: May, 2024

(2) 4-6 After his parents unexpectedly announce their divorce, eleven-year-old James decides his new friend Yan's time machine might give him a chance to go back to a happier past. When James's mother moves out, he must adapt to frequent switches between two homes and to parents redefining themselves at midlife. Some of the changes are, in his opinion, improvements, such as his mother's first-ever entry into his school's annual cake-making fundraiser; others, such as meeting Yan on his route to school with Mom, take some time to appreciate. When Yan's time machine doesn't have the intended effect (it's a proxy server that lets her access the 1990s-era internet), she goes to work adapting it to help James. Chapter headings count down the time remaining until their launch, and James reflects on experiences that will never happen again now that his parents have split up. When Yan's machine takes him back to those perfect moments, though, he sees them from a different perspective and discovers that the divorce was not such a surprise after all. Marr effectively blends elements of an adventure story with a quieter, character-driven plot. Subjects such as racial identity (James and Yan, like Marr, are both Chinese Australian, but Yan is a recent immigrant) and bullying are seamlessly integrated into the story, and James's realization that the adults around him are more complex than he'd realized is well handled. An enjoyable read with an innovative twist on the time-travel narrative. Sarah

Reviewer: Sarah Rettger | Horn Book Magazine Issue: September, 2024

(2) PS With the cadence of a folktale, the story starts, "There was once a duck...who thought he had no luck." The next few pages of softly colored illustrations demonstrate why he might feel this way: a rain shower soaks his picnic, a wheel comes off his scooter, a tree falls on his house. So Duck sets off on a journey to seek the counsel of Wise Owl. Along the way, he encounters three creatures with their own questions: why is Fox's tummy "noisy," why does Tree have no leaves, and why does Swan feel sad? Each hopes Duck will find Wise Owl and return with answers to their questions. Washes of color full of swirls and speckles provide visually appealing backgrounds for the expressive characters and dramatic scenes. The lively art plays off the text's more measured narration, which makes the story work well as a read-aloud. Wise Owl eventually appears; she recommends a good night's sleep and a fresh perspective for Duck and provides some answers for the others. Duck searches so intently for his promised luck that it seems he has missed the point, but readers would be wrong to underestimate him. He figures out how to take charge of his circumstances just in time, and "luckily," it all works out for the best.

Reviewer: Julie Roach | Horn Book Magazine Issue: September, 2024

(2) PS Translated by Nanette McGuinness. A little girl dreams of what it would be like to have siblings. The narrator imagines first having one sister to "build giant towers and play hide-and-seek with," then more sisters to "huddle, cuddle, and snuggle together," and finally, a house full of "tons of little sisters." In the end, she declares that she's happy as an only child: "At least I have my mommy all to myself!" The story's charm is amplified by its harmonious blend of text and illustration. Miura's simple, playful art brings the child's imaginary sisters to life, nicely capturing her creativity. The little sisters are "just like me, only smaller": all wear black dresses, and their black hair is cut in the same pageboy style. The siblings share the pink-cheeked narrator's pale skin, but their cheeks are pinkish-orange. The narrative, with its gentle and rhythmic repetition, echoes the child's growing excitement and eventual contentment. With its universal themes of imagination, family love, and acceptance, Miura's appealing picture book carries the message of appreciating what one has while leaving room for dreams and flights of fancy.

Reviewer: Weileen Wang | Horn Book Magazine Issue: March, 2024

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Juliana Perdomo. Carmencita dislikes picking up rotten mangoes that have fallen from Abuelita's tree. She also doesn't like eating mangoes: they are sticky, and the strings get stuck between her teeth. But Abuelita shows Carmencita that there is more to a mango than its fruit. It takes all five senses to appreciate a mango, as Santos describes in lush language. Listen to "long green leaves...in the breeze" and "the roots stirring"; look at the tree's branches; smell the fruit's "honey-sweet smell"; feel the "soft and firm" skin; and taste it: "The sweetness of Mamá Earth is endless when you bite a ripe mango. Your mouth fills with thick juices and pulp. Tiny strings play between your teeth, and the songs of our people dance on your tongue." The heart of the story is the intergenerational love between Carmencita and Abuelita, which radiates warmth and comfort. Double-page spreads make up a large portion of Perdomo's rich, colorful digital art, bright and full of musicality and movement. An illustration of Abuelita eating a mango with ancestors dancing on her tongue especially showcases the art's meaning. An author's note explains how Santos was inspired by her own childhood in Venezuela. Simultaneously published in Spanish as Comó se come un mango.

Reviewer: Yesica Hurd | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2024

(3) K-3 Illustrated by Leah Giles. This accessible picture book explains the concept behind Purple Up! for Military Kids, an annual day to honor children with family in the military, as one town prepares to celebrate it. Friendly pastel-hued illustrations emphasize purple. An author’s note gives more information about Purple Up!

Reviewer: Shoshana Flax

(2) K-3 Kat and Ari love baking cookies with Grandpa but struggle with the wait while the treats are in the oven. So they build a time machine to skip ahead to when the cookies are done -- but they miscalculate and arrive to find them already eaten. Determined to enjoy the cookies, they hop back into the time machine to try again. By mistake, they visit a time when they were much younger; in fact, their "very first cookie time with Grandpa!" They watch their younger selves with joy, realizing it had been "a perfect day." Next they end up in the future and even find a self-serve "Cookie Time" kiosk, sans humans: "NO WAITING," the sign says. That's when they realize that the key ingredient of cookie time is what's missing: Grandpa. They head back to the present for a big hug -- and cookies, of course. Sima has fun with the story's imaginative details: the children build the time machine out of a cardboard box, a spring, and their dog's ball. The future (where "everything seemed different") is filled with pastel-colored windmills, houses on legs, and robotic pets; the twist ending will please dog lovers. A warm intergenerational story about cherishing the present moment and realizing what's important.

Reviewer: Julie Danielson | Horn Book Magazine Issue: September, 2024

(2) K-3 An over-the-top grandma is the one sending presents in this takeoff on the popular Christmas carol. Her gifts on the first six days hew close to the original, but then things take a turn. Rather than seven swans a-swimming, Grandma sends her granddaughter Eloise "seven squirrels a-snorkelling." Smith's vibrantly illustrated three French hens don berets and ascots while carrying French flags. Each page is designed to suggest an envelope with funny details; for example, the squirrels come from "The Rub-A-Dub Home Pamper Service." The twelfth day brings a surprise practical gift, and the book ends with Eloise sending her grandma -- of course -- a thank-you note.

Reviewer: | Horn Book Magazine Issue: November, 2024

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Stephanie Graegin. A lesson in mindfulness is couched in a cozy story about a much-anticipated visit with extended family. At first, the child protagonist struggles with a seemingly interminable "today": "Today stretches long...when you're counting weeks to summer, counting days to your trip, counting hours until you'll see Pop-pop and your cousins again." With these lines, Snyder cleverly initiates a second-person narration to align readers with the protagonist. Then, when the child's parents finally stop their "yak-yak-yak[ing] with the neighbors," the family drives to a picturesque lake house, where Pop-pop, cousins, and other relatives await. Graegin's rendering of the peaceful, idyllic setting and her matter-of-fact depiction of an affectionate, multiracial family are warm and welcoming. Now time races by as the child frolics in the lake with cousins and later watches fireflies dot the yard, visually echoed by a string of fairy lights. A wasp sting is the only trouble spot to mar this happy, fleeting day, but grownups and sympathetic cousins ease the child's pain. Fireworks cap off "the today you've been waiting for," and then, staving off sorrow at book's end, closing text reminds the child and readers alike that our favorite days can continue as "a memory you can visit again and again." Thoughtful back matter offers tips for "appreciating the here and now" and using positive memories to ease anxiety and worries.

Reviewer: Megan Dowd Lambert | Horn Book Magazine Issue: January, 2024

(3) PS Illustrated by Frané Lessac. Sorell and Lessac's picture book We Are Grateful: Otsaliheliga (rev. 11/18) took readers through a Cherokee extended family's year. Now, in this sturdy boxed set of board books, each book focuses on a different season. The family plays in the leaves in Fall / Uligohvsdi, listens to elders tell stories in Winter / Gola, plants a garden in Spring / Gogeyi, and watches Auntie play stickball in Summer / Gogi. The brief (rewritten) text captions Lessac's homey, jewel-toned illustrations (sampled from the original picture book) on chunky pages in a universal, but culturally specific, journey through the year. For other celebrations of heritage from Black and Jewish creators, respectively, explore Your Legacy Begins: First Words to Empower (Abrams ­Appleseed) by Schele Williams, illustrated by Tonya Engel, and I Like Your Chutzpah: And Other Yiddish Words You'll Like (Rise/Penguin Workshop) by Suzy Ultman.

Reviewer: | Horn Book Magazine Issue: November, 2018; March, 2025

(2) K-3 Miguel and his abuelito wake early to work; the grandfather sells cold coconuts from a small, wheeled cart, and the boy sells dream catchers he makes, a craft that reminds him of his absent (perhaps deceased?) parents. The boy is saving up to buy an airplane, his dream. As they make their way through town selling their wares, they talk about what people might dream of. Some dreams are big, such as living in a castle or changing the world; others are smaller, such as having enough food. Miguel's grandfather reiterates that "selling my cold coconuts next to you and seeing you smile is all I dream of. I like it here and now because we're together." There is a powerful interplay between the words and Verdad's acrylic paint and digital collage illustrations, dominated by blocky shapes and crayon-like textures. This is most poignantly displayed when the grandfather tells Miguel that some people dream of seeing someone they miss as the boy gazes at two parents walking with their young child. Verdad shows artistic restraint, allowing the reader to intuit meaning and emotional depth by interpreting what this interaction and others like it mean. A moving story of appreciating what you have while still dreaming of a different future.

Reviewer: Julie Hakim Azzam | Horn Book Magazine Issue: May, 2024

(2) K-3 In a story centered on the collection, care, and digestion of excrement, Weber has crafted a contemporary fable that reads more gracious than gross. After a pile of steaming green-brown poop lands on an appreciative dung beetle ("SPLAT!"), the arduous work of forming it into a ball and rolling it safely home is interrupted by a leopard. The leopard asks the beetle why he works so hard for so little, to which he thoughtfully replies, "I don't have much. But the forest always provides enough." But when the beetle loses his ball of dung, he becomes discouraged and sets off on a journey to a (for him) distant farm. Sterile and disconnected from the surrounding environment, the farm produces a steady supply of dung -- so much so that the now-greedy beetle orders his fellow bugs to build him a huge "empire" of poop. An inevitable avalanche of feces leaves the beetle down and dung-less, but he heads back home with a renewed sense of gratitude for all that nature provides. Weber's lush pencil and digital illustrations feature plenty of atmospheric effects and eye-catching perspectives. While character illustrations are cartoonlike, the settings are more realistic, and the animal characters are full of personality. The efficient text and strong page design result in a briskly paced story, yet subtle narrative flourishes throughout the illustrations will surely be discovered and appreciated through unhurried viewing. Back matter includes a short list of dung beetle facts, from navigation to strength to diet.

Reviewer: Patrick Gall | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2024