On my nightstand (and coffee table) this week: springtime picture books
(“Oh, brrr”; photo by Rawley/use with permission only, please)
We’re in the fake-out season in Oregon. One day, it’s in the 70s, I’m out gardening all morning and in my flip-flops running errands in the afternoon. The next day, they’re talking tornado warnings (this is new to the Pacific Northwest and we’re all confused) and predicting hail “the size of tennis balls.” On the news, they showed a photo illustration of… balls. Golf balls, tennis balls, softballs, and a grapefruit? It rained a bit and was windy, but we were OK. We sometimes get snow in April or May.
I brought home a dozen new chicks a couple of weeks ago. They’re living in a galvanized tub in the garage under a heat lamp until they’re a bit bigger and the weather is nicer. So wish us luck. Four blonde Turkens, four black Turkens and four black pullets, all good-natured, and supposed to be good layers. I. Like. Chickens. Also picture books. And sunshine, but I’ll take the rain when it comes.
- “Beam of Light: The Story of the First White House Menorah” is here in time for Jewish American Heritage Month, which begins annually on May 1st. Elisa Boxer (“Hidden Hope,” “The Voice That Won the Vote”) is the author; Sofia Moore, a Ukrainian American artist and illustrator, provided the art. (Rocky Pond Books/Penguin Random House, 2024, 32 pages, ages 4 and up, $18.99.) Great biography about how the White House Menorah came to be. It’s quite a story, going back to President Truman’s era and continuing until 2022, when it was finally presented to the American people by President Joe Biden, and given a permanent home.
- Another good read for Jewish American Heritage Month is “Shabbat Shalom: Let’s Rest and Reset,” by Suzy Ultman. This sweet board book is just the right size for small hands, and introduces the concepts of weekly Shabbat to the young ones. (Rise x Penguin Workshop, 2025, babies and preschoolers, $9.99.) “We start with dinner. There are candles, and braided bread called challah, and smiles. There’s time for togetherness with family and friends and pets and neighbors and community.” Lovely book.
- Staying with this theme, a big welcome to the picture book “One Small Spark: A Tikkun Olam Story,” by author Ruth Spiro, with illustrations by Victoria Tentler-Krylov. (Dial Books for Young Readers/Penguin Random House, 2024, 40 pages, all ages, $18.99.) Tikkun Olam means “repair the world,” and this wonderful story, a “how-to,” really, with its vibrant art and positive tone, gives us hope. We can do good work, daily. So let’s do that. Peace and love.
- “Under Anna’s Umbrella” is a poignant picture book about grief, written by Amanda Driscoll, with soft, welcoming illustrations by Luisa Uribe. (Rocky Pond Books/Penguin Random House; scheduled for release April 22, 2025; 32 pages; ages 4 and up; $18.99.) Driscoll grew up in Louisville, Kentucky, and still lives in the area. Uribe resides in Bogotá, Colombia. It’s cool that these two artists from different parts of the world found each other and made this extraordinary book, which introduces us to young Anna. Since her father’s rainy funeral, when she hid under her umbrella, she chooses to never go anywhere without it. Then one day, there’s a shift. This book, I think, will help kids. I’m glad for that.
- We have another insightful picture book about grief with “The Hole,” written by author Lindsay Bonilla (I’ve reviewed her work before here) and illustrator Brizida Magro, whose artistic style is joyful and wide-open, which is an interesting approach to a serious topic. (Nancy Paulsen Books, Penguin Random House, 2025, ages 4 and up, $18.99.) A boy has lost his little brother, and it’s left such a hole in his world. This one brought tears to my eyes, and it’s so well-done.
My picks of the week are… “Under Anna’s Umbrella” and “The Hole.” It’s important to talk with kids about grief, and it’s hard, sometimes, to know just how to do that. My tips are: Keep it simple. Keep it age appropriate. Don’t forget the sweet along with the bitter. More sweet than bitter is needed in this life, and we all forget that sometimes. Speaking as someone who was age 7 when she lost her favorite uncle, age 9 when she lost her father, and early 30s when she lost her cousin, her favorite uncle’s son… I have always loved hearing stories about them. Not the “wow, we really partied!” kind of stories, but the ones about the sweetness in them. The annual trip my dad made to drop off a bushel of apples for one of the elders in the family. The hamburger shack where my uncle worked. How much my cousin loved pie.
Take the sweet along with the bitter. I send you all love.
Disclaimer: All of the books included in today’s post were sent to me free for review purposes. Disclaimer here. See you next time!
WM