Grandfather Picture Books

(2) PS Illustrated by AG Ford. Can you put a house to bed? Grandpop can. Isaac, a young Black boy who is happily visiting his grandfather--but reluctantly sleeping over--says he isn't sleepy when Grandpop tells him it's time for bed. "Then stay awake," Grandpop quips, "but it's time to put the house to bed." As they walk through each room, turning off lights and closing windows, Isaac hears unfamiliar noises that Grandpop explains, allaying the child's fears. The clicking sound is just pet dog Snuffles, the Airedale, following them; the creaking is the wind blowing the swings around outside. In Ford's rich-hued, warm-toned illustrations, books appear in nearly every room of the house, highlighting the centrality of literacy to this family and foreshadowing what will come next. The two settle into a big comfy chair near Isaac's bed, and when Grandpop suggests a bedtime story, Isaac protests that he hasn't yet learned to read. "I bet you can read pictures...Just tell me what you see on each page." And he does. The accompanying illustration suggests that Keats's The Snowy Day is that bedtime story, a mirror book for Isaac; but unlike that book, African American creators crafted this story, and Ford (Brown Baby Lullaby, rev. 3/20) celebrates Black joy with close-ups of Isaac's deep brown face, button nose, and locked or twisted hair. A fine, uplifting intergenerational tale of literacy, literature, and homemade love.

Reviewer: Michelle H. Martin | Horn Book Magazine Issue: September, 2021

(2) K-3 Translated by Sinéad Quirke Køngerskov. Illustrated by Anna Margrethe Kjærgaard. Stump and her grandfather are close, sharing hours of jigsaw puzzles and tending his hundred-plus flowers. Grandpa has a sharp memory, remembering the Latin names for all his beloved plants, until one day he doesn't. Soon, he puts out crystal glasses instead of coffee cups and can't make sense of a favorite puzzle. The young narrator is patient and loving. As Grandpa loses words, Stump collects them in a box. When Grandpa wanders out in the snow wearing bedroom slippers, Stump and her grandmother bring him home and warm him up with coffee. Stump, so nicknamed for her grandfather's childhood pet rabbit, recognizes that what he needs is something tangible, so she presents him with a new rabbit. The first-person account is clear and unadorned. This down-to-earth narration, combined with the dreamy quality of Kjærgaard's paintings, successfully conveys the poignancy of Grandpa's progressing dementia and Stump's deep love for him. The artist uses soft edges, layers of watercolor, and a gentle pastel palette, which flattens to shades of gray and blue as winter arrives and Grandpa's memory fails. The final spread, in which he happily holds his rabbit, revives some of the bright colors and flowers from the opening pages, as Stump's gift restores, for at least a moment, some of Grandpa's former self. A detailed, thoughtful afterword about dementia and memory loss adds a useful layer to this emotional story.

Reviewer: Maeve Visser Knoth | Horn Book Magazine Issue: January, 2022

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Sara Palacios. "Mango, limón, coco, melón," goes the rhythmic call of Abuelo el frutero. A smiling, curly-haired girl on a visit to her abuelo in Cuba describes walking with him on his route as he joins in on the memorable melodies of the pregoneros, street vendors who announce their goods through song. Engle's text is rich in sensory details: la yerbera sells "fragrant herbs"; the candy seller "croons so sweetly." The placement of the text itself adds visual interest, cascading down the page to mimic the lowering of a basket from a balcony, or shaped like the paper cones ("cucuruchos") sold by a dancing vendor. A vivid, light blue sky serves as backdrop for the bustling town, where buyers and sellers argue about prices but still bear cheerful expressions. Palacios's (Between Us and Abuela, rev. 11/19) digital illustrations are characterized by soft lines and warm colors that augment the positive mood throughout. That joyful tone is juxtaposed with the story's coda, as the granddaughter reveals her wish for an end to the travel restrictions that prevent Abuelo from visiting her at home in the States. Engle elaborates on this topic in an author's note, in which she also highlights the fascinating history of pregoneros. Fond reminiscences and a nuanced cultural depiction make for another warm ode to Engle's (Drum Dream Girl, rev. 5/15; All the Way to Havana, rev. 9/17; and many others) beloved isla. Concurrently ­published in Spanish as Un pregón de frutas.

Reviewer: Jessica Agudelo | Horn Book Magazine Issue: September, 2021

(1) PS Illustrated by Laura Dronzek. A pigtailed child visits her grandparents at the shore, where the waves call them to explore the sands just outside the steps of their small seaside house. Amid the colorful detritus left behind by the waves, the girl and her grandmother search for shells of every kind. "Grandma reminds me that the shells are little houses. And that gets me thinking," the child says, as she begins to wonder about the inhabitants of these tiny homes. Her mind wanders further out into the deep, where one could find "fish as big as cars...lost toys, lost coins, lots of lost things that were cried over." The girl's grandfather, too, looks in awe at the water and his grandchild, noting that she just may "know it all" someday. A collection of shells, though, is enough to satisfy the child until that someday arrives. Dronzek's recognizably bold-hued, naturalistic acrylic illustrations maintain the windswept qualities of a visit to the beach, infusing the quiet and meditative narrative with movement. Thoughtful page design alternates between spot art, images within a borderless ellipse-shaped frame, and full-bleed double-page spreads, uniting the child reader and the child narrator on their journeys to consider both the small and the vast. Henkes and Dronzek's latest pitch-perfect collaboration (Summer Song, rev. 3/21) offers an intimate multigenerational narrative that captures children's hopeful curiosity about our shared home.

Reviewer: Grace McKinney | Horn Book Magazine Issue: May, 2022

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Nahid Kazemi. On a visit to her grandfather's house the day after his death, a young girl recalls their many connections, despite a language barrier. Baba Bozorg spoke Farsi (he had been a poet in Iran); the narrator speaks only English. The girl walks through her grandfather's house, describing him and the time they spent together. She searches the pockets of clothes hanging in his closet because he was a reliable source of mints, but finds nothing. She notices his empty teacup sitting next to his samovar and recalls that he liked fig cookies and always offered one to her. Even though she didn't like them, "I always took one because we didn't share many words." Each object, each room, reminds her of their shared routines. Kazemi's illustrations have a soft, filmy quality that suits a story about memories. Distances between objects are sometimes elongated, sometimes shortened--a staircase to Baba Bozorg's bedroom looks lonely as the child heads up to face an empty room, but is a warmer, more friendly place when she descends wearing his slippers. The first-person narration, filled with childlike details and tender emotions, reinforces the equally childlike perspective of the delicate art.

Reviewer: Maeve Visser Knoth | Horn Book Magazine Issue: January, 2022

(2) K-3 Translated by Dianne Chung. Illustrated by Kim Seung-youn. Also translated by Lee Juck. A young child wonders where his beloved grandpa has gone. "His shoes sit in the closet, waiting to be worn...He isn't here to wake me up, or rub his stubbly chin against my cheek." Readers may understand that the grandfather has died ("Grandma keeps rubbing my back...I eat everything without complaining. If I didn't, I think she would cry"), but the child eventually decides that Grandpa likely has returned to the place he came from: "a place across the universe, full of dazzling stars." He was a tailor, and in the concluding scene, with a well-positioned gatefold, Seung-youn's subdued earth-tone illustrations weave together motifs from Grandpa's life with those of space. The flat black of the night sky is scattered with button stars, for example; and is Grandpa standing on a ball of thread or a planet of his own? With its refrain "Grandpa is gone," the beautifully paced text gradually adds layers to the protagonist's understanding of this enormous loss. An affecting portrait of the deep feelings and confusion of a child mourning the absence of a loved one.

Reviewer: Maeve Visser Knoth | Horn Book Magazine Issue: November, 2021

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Nicole Wong. Kiyoshi appreciates the haiku written by his grandfather, the "wise poet" Eto, and asks him, "Where do poems come from?" In response, his grandfather pockets a pen and paper and takes him on a walk through their busy urban neighborhood. Passing by a fruit stand, Kiyoshi pats a cat standing on a pyramid of oranges. After the page-turn, the fruit is scattered on the ground, and Eto writes a poem: "Hill of orange suns. / Cat leaps. Oranges tumble. / The cat licks his paw." They continue their walk, and Kiyoshi's senses are heightened as he notices a flower in a sidewalk crack and the passing "whoosh" of a girl on a bike. Pigeons fly overhead, leading to Eto's next haiku; a forgotten teddy bear behind a construction wall leads to the third. Like Karlins's text, Wong's digital illustrations are delicate and precise. She uses soft pastels along with grays and browns, employing a variety of perspectives to capture the beauty of a North American cityscape. By the end of the walk Kiyoshi is inspired to create his own poem, having learned that poetry comes from the world around him and from the feelings in his heart, "the way they come together." An author's note explains the Japanese origins of haiku and how it differs from the American form. This warm, loving picture book might just inspire a poetry walk.

Reviewer: Susan Dove Lempke | Horn Book Magazine Issue: May, 2021

(2) PS Illustrated by Chris Sheban. Siblings Emma, Aidan, and Milo adore their grandfather, an avid bird-watcher. Their grandmother had loved not birds but horses, so much so that she wanted to be a horse in her next life. "What will you be?" Emma asks Grandfather. "I'll let you know when the time comes," he replies. Milo, the youngest, doesn't talk much but has a special connection with Grandfather--he sees what Grandfather sees, hears what he hears, and learns about the birds he most loves, especially the "high-soaring bald eagle." When the children come home from school one day, Grandfather, whose health had been failing, is not there. Milo wonders, "But where is Grandfather?" He runs outside, just as a bald eagle soars above. "Grandfather flies!" exclaims the child. Sheban's watercolor, pastel, and graphite illustrations bring a fuzzily textured look to the pages, an appropriately soft treatment for a remembrance of a loved one. Text and illustrations interplay beautifully, as in the quiet image of a sad Milo being hugged when he discovers that Grandfather has gone. A sensitive portrayal of family, love, life, and death presented in a child-friendly manner.

Reviewer: Dean Schneider | Horn Book Magazine Issue: September, 2021

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Charlie Mylie. When Lulu breaks her leg, it's not so bad at first: all her classmates want to sign her bright yellow cast, and she finds new ways to do ordinary things. Soon, however, the novelty wears off. So when it's time for the cast to go, Lulu should be ready, but she's not: her leg feels fragile and unsafe. She takes to wearing one rain boot as a substitute and hangs back when her friends want to play. When Grandpa comes to visit, he reassures her that "some things just need a little extra time." The next day, Lulu sees something yellow up in a tree, and her curiosity makes her brave enough to climb it. Readers will know what the object is because throughout the book, on interspersed paneled wordless spreads, a subplot has unfolded of the unusual progress of a bright yellow envelope--carried by the wind, pushed along by a freight train, and so on until it's finally picked up by a nesting bird. The convergence of the two plots is highly satisfying, and the book ends with images of a confident (and barefoot) Lulu balancing on the high-up tree limb with her own letter to Grandpa. Yellow dominates in Mylie's minimal palette, keeping viewers' focus on Lulu and on the peripatetic envelope; facial expressions and body language are used to great effect. A welcome story of a child overcoming her fears in her own time, and of a close and supportive intergenerational friendship.

Reviewer: Martha V. Parravano | Horn Book Magazine Issue: January, 2022

(2) K-3 Illustrated by Felicita Sala. Emilia's beloved grandfather gives her a walnut and uses it to tell his immigration story. As a child, he emigrated with his family from Italy. They carried very few belongings, but the boy managed to take a walnut from the tree outside his window, which he planted in a pot upon arrival in his new country. He carried the growing tree with him, transplanting it as needed throughout the years, until, with his new wife, planting it in the backyard of their home. Now, many years later, Emilia, with her grandfather's help, plants and cares for her own walnut sapling, only putting it in the ground after her grandfather's death. The relatively simple text includes many layers--in addition to being an immigration story, it is a family history tale and a story about the passing of a beloved grandparent and the carrying on of that person's legacy. Paquette's emotive writing is strong and clear: "Emilia held her grandfather close for as long as she could. And then she said goodbye." Sala's paintings, in shades of green, gold, and sepia, are equally effective. In them, Emilia and her grandfather are visually connected, often overlapping or framed together by curving lines, bringing intimacy to the tale.

Reviewer: Maeve Visser Knoth | Horn Book Magazine Issue: March, 2022

(1) K-3 Illustrated by Julie Flett. From the creators of When We Were Alone (rev. 3/17) comes another powerful and affecting picture book, this one about a boy who accompanies his grandfather Moshom up north, where as a child Moshom and his family lived on the trapline. It's a poignant journey, because he has not been back since. The two travel by plane, car, and boat to reach the trapline. Along the way, Moshom shows the boy where he used to swim; go to school; chop wood; pick berries; and set traps for muskrats. Robertson's first-person text is conversational, honed, and immediate: "There's a river at the end of the highway. We get into one of the motorboats docked along the shore and head out onto the water. The river is wide, but Moshom's smile is even wider." Before each page-turn, Robertson's text ends with a sentence defining Swampy Cree words, providing a graceful landing point for each spread. Sometimes the defined word corresponds directly to a word used just before ("Moshom tells me that in the winter, everybody in the family slept in one room, where the wood stove kept them warm... / Wakomakanak means 'family'"); sometimes the connection is subtle ("When we're about to leave, I stand with Moshom by the lake. / He holds my hand tight, but he doesn't say anything. / Kiskisiw means 'he remembers'"). Flett's remarkable illustrations immerse the viewer in the north of Moshom's past and present. An evocative blue-green begins on the endpapers and anchors most spreads, representing lake, river, and sky; these soft, cool colors are set off by warm browns (of skin tones, birds, woodpiles) and occasional pops of bright red. An outstanding contribution to the literature about family, intergenerational friendship, remembrance, community, Indigenous experience, and more. Appended with author and illustrator notes and a glossary.

Reviewer: Martha V. Parravano | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2021

(2) K-3 Translated by Antony Shugaar. Illustrated by Beatrice Alemagna. "Once upon a time, there was a girl who was called Little Yellow Riding Hood." "No, red!" "...Her mother said: Now go to Aunt Hildegard's house and take her this potato peel." "No, it's: Go to your grandmother's house and bring her this warm loaf of bread." Here is a humorous story of a grandfather retelling "Little Red Riding Hood" to his granddaughter, and telling it hilariously wrong. The child keeps correcting him, but it doesn't seem to get him back on track. And why bother? Anyone who reads this book will see that the heart of storytelling with children is not the accurate retelling of plot but rather the connection and creative interaction between adult and child. Alemagna's (Never, Not Ever!, rev. 9/21) well-composed and multilayered mixed-media illustrations cleverly support the transition between the two speakers, as the narrative is related solely through dialogue; thought bubbles amusingly show the very different stories unfolding in each of the character's heads. Young readers already familiar with "Little Red Riding Hood" may enjoy this story most, but it will be great fun for all, nonetheless.

Reviewer: | Horn Book Magazine Issue: May, 2022

(2) PS A young Korean American boy travels across the ocean to visit his grandfather in South Korea. Everything is strange there. "It smells strange. It sounds strange." Grandpa speaks an unfamiliar language and eats food that the child doesn't want to eat. The boy is not happy. "Grandpa's house is the most boring place on earth!" But some time spent together proves him wrong. Grandpa laughs when watching cartoons and loves chocolate ice cream. He's a great singer, and also a troublemaker--just like his grandson! Now, everything is familiar. The child can understand Grandpa's language and eat Grandpa's food. And he can't wait to be back next summer. In this sweet and funny story, Yum (Saturday Is Swimming Day, rev. 7/18; I Am a Bird, rev. 1/21) explores the grandparent-grandchild relationship and shows how barriers of language, culture, distance, and age are overcome through the creation of shared memories and finding commonality. The straightforward text is easily accessible, and the colored-pencil illustrations are bright and vibrant. Faithful representations of street scenes and food culture in South Korea invite readers from the same background to connect personally with the visual narrative while allowing others to experience something new. The front and back endpapers also include a wealth of detail and provide a visual summary of the story.

Reviewer: Weileen Wang | Horn Book Magazine Issue: July, 2021