Review by Booklist Review
Beginning with a dramatic book cover composed almost entirely of a boy's face, strong emotion is conveyed through effective illustrations and book design. The first images depict a mother and son, talking in a darkened room, the text color changing to denote each speaker. The mother begins describing a happy memory. Six small illustrations act as scenes, telling the visual story of the memory: a field, a blanket, you, me, and your dad. Next, a flowing two-page spread from the boy's perspective shows the conclusion, with the parents looking at each other and the boy's hands offering them berries. Then, back in the darkened room, the boy shares a memory of learning to ride a bike. They talk of a big rainstorm and then of packing to leave their home. Now, it is just the two of them; no explanation is given about what has happened to the father. By the end of the book, the mother has fallen asleep, but the boy is telling his own story about their new home and how they will be OK, reassuring himself and watching over her. The undertone of sadness is ever present but so is the feeling of hope. The design and details in the illustrations ask readers to proceed slowly, think beyond what is stated, and construct their own interpretations of story and memory.
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
Smith (My Baba's Garden) opens this story of remembrance as a pale-skinned adult and child awaken, lying next to each other, open-eyed in the dark. As the pages turn, limpid dialogue and tender, light-filled vignettes show the two taking refuge in shared memories. "Do you remember," the adult begins, "when we had a picnic in the field?" Sunny scenes show the child searching among daisies "for snakes and bugs" while the sun shines down on the two and a bearded father. A page turn reveals an unexpected prize found by the youth: a handful of wild berries. The duo share more memories--the child learning to ride a bicycle, a rainstorm that knocked out the power--before moving closer to a present in which the father no longer seems to be around ("Do you remember... leaving our home behind?"). Without freighting this portrait of change with context, Smith reveals the two creating a new memory for themselves: the first morning in their new home ("We could smell the bakery from across the street"). It's a loving familial portrait that envisions intentionality around the process of memory-making. Ages 4--8. Agent: Emily Van Beek, Folio Literary. (Oct.)
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Review by School Library Journal Review
K-Gr 3--The eyes on the book jacket tell it all, capturing the bluish-gray irises of a young boy clearly in retrospect. Readers' minds are transfixed by the world of this boy, wondering what thoughts are behind his eyes, while their hearts prepare to engage with the book's characters. The panels within the book frame the thoughts of the mother and son in bed remembering times gone by. The pink words on a page chronicle the mother's precious, unforgettable memories of their family; additionally, the son's words in blue express his response to her specific memory, which in turn, allows him to articulate one of his own. The picnic with Dad, the new birthday bicycle, and moving to a new city renders a story of loss of items and loved ones, and genuinely embraces a new beginning. The story flows from frames to full-page art, denoting life's ebbs and restorations. Mother and son choose the sensible response to loss; remembering the good times enables them to move forward with hope. The last image of the boy's eyes expressing new memories are on the horizon as the sunlight brightens a new day. The author delicately and triumphantly creates a book worth remembering, with a relatable topic for families and school-age children who also may be suffering loss. VERDICT Although not a happy or popular topic, the subject matter and time of year make this more than worthy of consideration. Readers and listeners alike will be heartened by the lesson of using memories from the past to envision dreams for the future.--Tanya Haynes
(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Horn Book Review
A mother and child lie in bed, sharing memories in the dark. Changes in font color and placement guide readers in knowing who is speaking at which moment. First, the mother asks "Do you remember..." about a picnic they once had. The child then recalls a first bicycle, and the mother, a rainstorm. All memories include the two of them and the child's father. But the next memory involves departing their home, the father staying behind after gently handing over a teddy bear. In one wordless spread, Smith (illustrator of My Baba's Garden, rev. 3/23) shows readers what mother and child see: a room filled with boxes. The child asks if they can "make this a memory, too...just you and me," ending with, "We knew we were going to be just fine." Why the father is not there is for readers to infer. Marked by beguiling light and shadow (the spreads in which the two lie in bed are marked by dark shades that grow progressively lighter as the story proceeds and light fills their room), the art captures the past in small vignettes, sometimes blurred with the passing of time and sometimes quite vivid -- like memories themselves. How do we make memories? Which parts of them matter? This hushed and deeply tender story will spark many conversations. Julie DanielsonSeptember/October 2023 p.60 (c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review
A parent and child share memories during their first day in a new home. Hands, feet, faces. Close-ups of these body parts indicate proximity of child to parent in this quietly affecting story of separation and change. The book opens on two light-skinned faces wreathed with dark hair snuggled into bed pillows. The color of the text indicates the speaker (pink for the parent, blue for the child). Each episode begins with parent or child asking the titular question, and as time shifts between present and past, the design goes from double-page spreads to square, sequential panels, allowing Smith to home in on details: the parents sitting on a blue checkered picnic blanket in the hazy sunshine as the child presents berries; the child riding a bicycle before crashing, laughing, into a haystack; Grandpa's lantern--its glow contrasting with the darkness the night the power went out. As in Smith's previous stories, sensory descriptions beautifully gird the emotions of the visual narrative, and a sensitive caretaker and child face challenges with loving attention to one another. The parent and child recall how they got lost driving to the new dwelling; the child handed the parent the teddy bear that Dad--who hasn't come with them--had given them. Gazing out the apartment window at dawn, surrounded by these familiar objects, the child wonders if this "magic" moment will also be a memory one day. (This book was reviewed digitally.) An immensely satisfying glimpse of a family's ability to navigate challenges through honest conversation and mutual support. (Picture book. 4-7) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
