Butterfly Sea

Written by Cynthia Mackey

Illustrated by Marie-Laure Couët

Tielmour Press

978-1-998426-22-5

42 pp.

Ages 4–8

January 2026

 

When a child takes her camera and heads out to photograph butterflies, she sees more than might be expected.

From Butterfly Sea, written by Cynthia Mackey, illustrated by Marie-Laure Couët

It's early morning. With a sea and grass and flowers nearby, there is lots to engage this little girl and her baby sister. While she patiently and quietly situates herself to watch for butterflies, the toddler becomes a side show of activity. But the toddler's play becomes visual poetry with every new permutation. She's a mermaid asking for ice cream when her teal blanket gets knotted into a tail, and then a pirate, and a shark. And while her older sister is tasked with watching her, ensuring she is safe and fed, the photographer does not lose focus.

From Butterfly Sea, written by Cynthia Mackey, illustrated by Marie-Laure Couët

Always mindful of her purpose, the young photographer watches and sees. But she sees with more than her eyes. She sees with her heart and her imagination. When the toddler appears swinging a branch, the photographer sees a pirate searching for treasure. She will "hand her maps and whisper golden secrets, promising riches and jewels on faraway beaches." (pg. 13)

From Butterfly Sea, written by Cynthia Mackey, illustrated by Marie-Laure Couët

With time and patience and dedication to both caregiving and observation, the child photographer gets what she'd waited for and enjoys a visual display for all the senses.

From Butterfly Sea, written by Cynthia Mackey, illustrated by Marie-Laure Couët

At first glance, the story of Butterfly Sea is a simple one of two children who've gone out to play, one hopeful of photographing butterflies. But the story is so much richer because Cynthia Mackey tells it with imagery and imagination that takes a simple story to one of pirates and sharks, kaleidoscopes and flowers. And it's told with lyricism that makes a simple outing into something magical.

 

The credits tell us that Marie-Laure Couët's art was created digitally, and I'm astonished as the textures of paper and paint suggests watercolour. How Marie-Laure Couët was able to achieve the subtle nuance of watercolour on textured paper, perfect for an adventure into nature, is beyond me. But the texture of that digital art mirrors the organic nature of the seaside and the meadows and everything else in between, and there is a sweetness there that reflects the relationship both between children and between children and nature.

 

This is the second book written by Cynthia Mackey that I have reviewed—If a Bumblebee Lands on Your Toe (2025) was the first—and I'm beginning to sense a theme. It might be the bewitching quality of insects, all around us but never really observed, or the power of the natural world to invigorate our lives, or the connection between species, or . . . maybe it's all of the above and none of the above. Maybe it's just the luxury of children at play, each in their own way, but told through the lens of fascination with observation.

Marching North

Written by Yolanda T. Marshall

Art by Daria Lavrova

Chalkboard Publishing

978-1-771059022

40 pp.

Ages 5–10

February 2026

 

A visit to Aunty Evangelina's is more than just a visit to enjoy some Bajan souse. It's a deep dive into history and heritage and lessons in acceptance.

From Marching North, written by Yolanda T. Marshall, illustrated by Daria Lavrova

When the child asks Aunty about getting into an altercation with her friend Ava after Ava made fun of a new boy's accent and the child stood up for him, Aunty Evangelina tells her,

Don't doubt the direction you chose. You picked your battle and you won. (pg. 9)

With talk of direction, Aunty Evangelina shows her an old compass, one of the many story-filled treasures that decorate her house. That sparks a discussion about the soldiers in some of her pictures, of which there are many, and their Caribbean origins. Most of all the child asks whether everyone was proud of them for their bravery. And Aunty tells her about the reality for Black soldiers who were often treated unkindly and might have had to challenge the government for the right to join the fighting forces.

From Marching North, written by Yolanda T. Marshall, illustrated by Daria Lavrova

Aunty introduces the child to eight extraordinary Black veterans who served Canada during the First and Second World Wars. Their names, perhaps less recognizable than they should be, were Isaac Phills, George Livingstone, William Gale, Thamis Gale, Ethelbert Lionel Cross, Hewburn Greenidge, Dr. Joseph Liverpool, and Owen Rowe. But Aunty also gives them substance beyond their military service. She speaks of the countries of their origins, from Guyana to Trinidad and Tobago, and Saint Vincent and the Grenadines. She speaks of their contributions to society and their cultures, whether through Caribana, now called the Toronto Caribbean Carnival, or to fields such as law and medicine. Aunty wants Abiola to know and remember these people and stand up for the freedoms they defended.

From Marching North, written by Yolanda T. Marshall, illustrated by Daria Lavrova

Though the story of Marching North is presented as a picture book, it is a narrative with information wrapped in a simple plot of a child learning how to do what is right. Yolanda T. Marshall, whose previously reviewed picture books (e.g., Big Birthday Wishes, 2025; What's in the Cookie Tin?, 2024; Hot Cross Buns for Everyone!, 2022) were lighthearted, now approaches a serious topic in Marching North. It's one of awareness of the contributions of Black Canadians who chose to join the military forces even amidst discrimination and disrespect that would have discouraged most. These men—perhaps there were Black women soldiers as well though there are none highlighted in Marching North—deserve recognition and honour for what they did. And the lesson that Abiola—whose African name means born in honour or wealth—takes from these men and her Aunty is that she will choose the direction she will take in life and make a difference. (pg. 33) 

I was captivated by Daria Lavrova's art. At first glance, it reminded me of that iconic painting by Norman Rockwell titled The Problem We All Live With (1964; oil on canvas, 91 cm × 150 cm [36 in × 58 in], Norman Rockwell Museum) in which a young Ruby Bridges is escorted by marshals to her desegregated school. It is a powerful statement about courage and strength in the face of racism, and that same message is reflected in Yolanda T. Marshall's text of Marching North. But Russian-born Daria Lavrova goes beyond that similarity—and that representation may all be in my interpretation—and adds layers by blending images of the Caribbean homes of these veterans with symbols of their new country of Canada. How Daria Lavrova created such beauty and movement, as well as strength of character and pride in her characters, is astonishing to me.

 

For this Black History month and for every lesson on the veterans who fought for Canada, Marching North will be a valuable addition. Not only do we learn about the contributions of Black Canadians with whose names many of us are sadly unfamiliar, we can acknowledge the bravery shown and sacrifices that they and others made. And, in focusing on what we should be doing, i.e., following the right path, we won't lose sight of what's important.

Second Story Press: New logo (sort of)

I know it's been a bit since Second Story Press changed its logo (Spring, 2025) but, in reviewing Ellis on Guard, I have noticed it for the first time on a printed book. 

Second Story Press, founded in 1988, has always been a publisher dedicated to feminist-inspired literature, and has evolved into one that upholds all themes of social justice, particularly equity, inclusion, and diversity. Some of its best known titles include Hana's Suitcase (written by Karen Levine, 2002), Stolen Words (written by Melanie Florence, illustrated by Gabrielle Grimard, 2017), and The Magician of Auschwitz (written by Kathy Kacer, illustrated by Gillian Newland, 2014). Second Story Press is well known for their Holocaust Remembrance Series for Young Readers, their kids activism books, and Indigenous stories, including dual language books.

Hana's Suitcase (Karen Levine, 2002)

The Magician of Auschwitz (Kathy Kacer and Gillian Newland, 2014)

The Secret of the Village Fool (Rebecca Upjohn and Renée Benoit, 2012)

Stolen Words (Melanie Florence and Gabrielle Grimard, 2017)

The Case of Windy Lake (Michael Hutchinson, 2019)

The Water Walker (Joanne Robertson, 2017) 

 

 

Our Rights: How Kids are Changing the World (Janet Wilson, 2013)

Every Day is Malala Day (Rosemary McCarney and Plan International, 2014)

Shannen and the Dream for a School (Janet Wilson, 2011)

 

Last year, the co-founder and owner of Second Story Press, Margie Wolfe, a recipient of the Order of Canada, transferred ownership of Second Story Press to independent publisher Phuong Truong. But to honour Margie Wolfe's dedication and extraordinary contributions, Second Story Press created a new logo last year. Not only does it commemorate Margie Wolfe's critical role in leading Second Story Press, it plays on the same whimsy that she always showed in her eye wear choice. Congratulations to Margie Wolfe and Second Story Press on starting their new chapters.

 

Ellis on Guard

Written by Sal Sawler

Illustrated by Nandita Ratan

Second Story Press

978-1-77260-444-3

24 pp.

Ages 6–8

February 2026 

 

Ellis had so many worries that if they wrote them all down, the list would wrap around their house three times. (pg. 2) 

That single line explains a lot about how Ellis conducts themself. It's not what defines them—they are far more than their worries—but they are a child who makes a lot of decisions based on those concerns. And Ellis is worried about a lot of things, from meeting new people to catching colds, and losing their puppy Peanut. To their benefit, Ellis notices a lot, because they are always aware or worried that danger is present.

From Ellis on Guard, written by Sal Sawler, illustrated by Nandita Ratan

When Ellis sees a poster about a missing dog named Walter, their worries are intensified. They become Big Worries. Now they have to worry about a dognapper, about Peanut being taken, and where Peanut might go. So, Ellis devises a plan to catch the dognapper with a trap. But now there are more worries because they needs supplies from the Creepy Closet and the Frightening Forest, and they have to talk to the Noisy Neighbor. With some support from Peanut and their mom, Ellis creates a trap. But what Ellis finds is that there is more to discover than a dognapper. There is more beyond worries. In fact, there is goodness.

From Ellis on Guard, written by Sal Sawler, illustrated by Nandita Ratan

Sal Sawler, the Nova Scotia writer of When the Ocean Came to Town (Nimbus, 2023), seems to understand a child's worries and how they can spiral out of control to the point at which they impact activities and thought. Worries are protective. They are there to help us avoid injury, dangerous circumstances, and bad people. Whether it's our own traumas or those of our ancestor, our bodies remember. But when they misremember, seeing peril everywhere, life is negatively impacted, and this is especially concerning for children. This child obviously knows some strategies for dealing with their anxieties like making a plan, putting on imaginary armour, or asking for help, but worries can be inescapable when they overwhelm. Still Sal Sawler sensitively takes Ellis in small steps from worrisome to attentive beyond the worries. Once Ellis realizes that they can do good, they put aside the worry and step up to be the protector they envision themself to be. I think kids would gain from discussions of how Ellis changes their outlook and sets aside a worry, perhaps helping to cope with their own concerns and see the positives where they exist.

From Ellis on Guard, written by Sal Sawler, illustrated by Nandita Ratan

Nandita Ratan is a Vancouver-based artist whose digital art keeps with the playful rather than the threatening nature of worries. Even when Ellis fears monsters or a dognapper or a  Spiky Shrub, Nandita Ratan does not make it scary. Instead, she makes the child's fears simple but embedded in the realism of a dark closet or a shaded forest. She keeps most of the illustrations light and colourful, never terrifying, and thus helps to convey the message that worries can be dispelled by not catastrophizing and with a change in perspective.

 

While Ellis on Guard is not a how-to story about dealing with worries, it is a picture book that might help a few children understand their own worries. Child have worries, as do the rest of us, and some of those worries don't disappear because we will them to do so. It might be enough for children to learn that there are positive thoughts that can help prevent over-the-top worries that anticipate the worst and turn things around enough to do good and see goodness beyond the worries.

 

 • • • • • • • 

 

Visions From the Fire (Dreams, Book 2)

Written by Wanda John-Kehewin

Illustrated by nicole marie burton

Colour by Rhael McGregor 

Lettering by Kielamel Sibal

HighWater Press (Portage & Main)

978-1-77492-065-7

80 pp.

Ages 12+

Releases February 24, 2026 

 

Visions From the Fire starts with a bang. Damon and his classmates are preparing to graduate from high school. And Damon, his mom, and his friend Journey are then heading out to his mom's reserve, which she hasn't visited for fifteen years, for a powwow. And Damon's classmate and bully, Marcus, who'd taunted the teen relentlessly about his Indigenous heritage, has recently learned this his own mother is Cree, part of the Sixties Scoop, though she shrugs it off as "not a big deal." (pg. 2) If that isn't enough happening in Damon's life, then there is the gifting of a bear claw necklace made by his mom that gives him visions of her abandonment on the reserve. He asks her but she doesn't want to talk about it.

What's there to talk about? When stuff hurts, Indians try to forget about it. They bury it deep inside 'til it stops hurting. Counsellors call it suppression. I call it survival. Still not ready, son. (pg. 13)

From Visions From the Fire, written by Wanda John-Kehewin, illustrated by nicole marie burton

Unfortunately, they do have a blow up when Damon's mom inadvertently learns her son has contacted his dad and intends to meet up with him at the powwow. She's angry at him for not trusting her enough to tell her, and he's angry at her for her reaction and trying to control him. It's not a good way to arrive at the reserve. 

 

Soon after, Damon's mom takes off in his car, and he worries she might be drinking and driving. He goes for a walk and meets an older man who seems almost otherworldly, turning rain off and on, making fire of wet wood, and knowing more than Damon thinks he should. 

From Visions From the Fire, written by Wanda John-Kehewin, illustrated by nicole marie burton

But this man is wise, and he has some choice words for Damon about listening instead of talking, about sitting on the fence, and more. When the man is gone, Damon finds the bear claw necklace in his pocket and is transported by vision to see what his mother experienced, what Journey experienced, and even what his ancestors discussed when faced with starvation or signing a treaty.  

When you don't know who you are, life becomes a tough journey. Same for your mother and your father. (46) 

Still, it's what happens afterwards, meeting family he'd never known but who know him and his gifts, attending a sweat lodge, and learning that he has been chosen, that leads Damon into his next story.

From Visions From the Fire, written by Wanda John-Kehewin, illustrated by nicole marie burton

Road trips are often transformative. They give opportunities for discussions either previously avoided or finally deemed necessary. A little thing, like Damon asking his mother why she hated being called, "Ma," opens up a lot about her mother, about Damon's dad and about his mom's relationship with him and with drink. Unfortunately, with the arrogance of youth, Damon goes after his mother, accusing her of trying to control him, never recognizing she knows more than he does about her situation. But this journey is but one step in Damon's exploration of self: where he comes from, and perhaps where he is going. Wanda John-Kehewin, who introduced Damon and Journey and others in Visions of the Crow is taking Damon slowly to where he needs to find himself. And while he sees himself through his experiences and through those of his mother, of Journey, and of others who interact with him, his visions of what has happened to them and his ancestors give him insight into his own actions and needs. This richness of self is embedded in Damon's Cree heritage, especially once he arrives at the reserve in Saskatchewan. From the language—kindly translated as needed—to the cultural traditions like the sweat and the offering of tobacco, Wanda John-Kehewin lets us know that being Cree is part of Damon, though there is still much for him to learn.

From Visions From the Fire, written by Wanda John-Kehewin, illustrated by nicole marie burton

nicole marie burton, who also illustrated Book 1 in the Dreams series (Visions of the Crow, 2023), blends realism with the intangible. Damon is a contemporary teen who listens to his music, goes to school, argues with his mom, and deals with life. But, he sees into the past and into the lives of others, experiencing surreal episodes that nicole marie burton makes believable. They use darkness and textured iridescence to transport the reader to different places and times, convincing us that Damon's vision has shifted. There are hints in the clothing and the scenery, as well as in Wanda John-Kehewin's words, but nicole marie burton shows us without telling us that Damon is going through something cathartic.

 

There is still story to be told, including Damon meeting his father, Damon and Journey's relationship, and Marcus's identification as Cree. But I know that, like Damon's journey, it will happen in due course, with help from those past and present, and be revealed as necessary. Wanda John-Kehewin cares enough to ensure the story is told in its time, making sure that Damon's self-actualization is real, personal, and complete.

 

• • • • • • •

 

Dreams 

 

Visions of the Crow (2023)

Visions From the Fire (2026)

 

The Story Hunter

Written and illustrated by Barbara Reid

North Winds Press (An imprint of Scholastic Canada)

978-1-0397-1033-7

32 pp.

Ages 3–8

February 2026 

 

 I am a story hunter. I carry stories. (pg. 33)

 

The Story Hunter is like nothing I've read from Barbara Reid. Her stories are treasures of brightness and joy, often of everyday life, whether it be gardening (Watch It Grow: Backyard Life Cycles, 2019), the weather (Picture the Sky, 2017), bedtime songs (Sing a Song of Bedtime, 2015), trees (Picture a Tree, 2013), or playing in the snow (Perfect Snow, 2009). But The Story Hunter, inspired by Barbara Reid's visit to see the cave art in the Vézère Valley, is a story from tens of thousands of years ago. It may be fiction, but it is rich in history of people and place and storytelling.

From The Story Hunter, written and illustrated by Barbara Reid

This child is part of a community of hunters and gatherers. They follow the animals across valleys in the shadows of mountains, camping when the animals stop. And when they stop, they work together to make shelter, to prepare food, to gather wood, and to care for children.

From The Story Hunter, written and illustrated by Barbara Reid

But when the hunters pack up to go, they are led by Grandmother because she knows where to look. They are not hunting animals for food; they are looking for the stories. Using lamps made of stone with depressions to carry fire, the hunting party enters into the blackness of caves in their search.

We are swallowed.

Our feet find smooth places, 

rough places, slippery places. 

Our lamps find marks that 

jump and hide. (pg. 14)

From The Story Hunter, written and illustrated by Barbara Reid

There are stalactites and stalagmites, dripping water and pools in openings, until they reach a cavern where the walls are covered in animals that play in their light. (pg. 19) The hunting party revels in the paintings they find, with the child especially enamoured with that of a mammoth, before adding their own story marks, with their preparation of red ochre. There is gratitude and revelry for the stories that were told and would be told.

 

I think that we forget that stories have been told for thousands of years and in a multitude of forms. And just because they are in form with which we are generally unfamiliar to interpret fully, they are stories that impart meaning just the same. Whether they are records of hunts or wishes for good ones, places of ceremony, or spiritual narratives, these pictographs tell much about the people who put them there. This child and his people are hunters, but more than just those of animals.

From The Story Hunter, written and illustrated by Barbara Reid

Barbara Reid's text is one of reverence and community. The togetherness of all members, from the child to his grandmother, is what makes the community work, whether hunting for stories or looking for food. Her text depicts that admiration for people, past and present, and what they have done and are still doing. That honour is portrayed in their words ("Our home holds all we need," says Grandmother. "If we look."; pg. 2) and in Barbara Reid's art. The world is far greater and more important than the individual people. The vastness of the sky, the land, and all who live there is evident. Even when they enter the confined space of the caves, the walls are the focus, lit with an orange glow from their lanterns or torches. Barbara Reid knows where we should look, and she directs us there.

 

While the artwork was "made with modelling clay that was shaped and pressed onto illustration board" with acrylic paint used for special effects, it has a very different feel from the majority of Barbara Reid's books. In fact, I was very surprised to read this art credit on the copyright page, convinced Barbara Reid had employed a different art technique. But, though appearing more two-dimensional that other picture book illustrations of Barbara Reid's that I have reviewed, it works for a story about pictographs which are painted onto rock surfaces, not carved. It's in keeping with the story, just as her use of colour emphasizes the natural tones of an outdoor world and the darkness of an indoor cave. Always perfect, Barbara Reid knows how to take us to a place, whether now or 15,000 years ago. The stories will be told and found and told again, no matter their form.

Sarabeth's Garage

Written by Melanie Florence

Illustrated by Nadia Alam

Tundra Books

978-1-774885956

40 pp.

Ages 3–7

February, 2026

 

Sarabeth loves cars. She loves everything about them, from their tires and motors to their carburetors, and engines. She loves the way they look, how they move, and the sounds they make. Her family knows how much she loves being around cars and spending time at her dad's garage. Well, almost all of them understand. Sarabeth's grandmother doesn't. She shakes her head and cringes, telling her what girls should do and what boys do.

From Sarabeth's Garage, written by Melanie Florence, illustrated by Nadia Alam

But Sarabeth doesn't let it bother her. She puts on her blue coveralls with her name stitched on the pocket and helps her dad with oil changes, with fixing flat tires, and by replacing fan belts and spark plugs. And when she gets home, she has to scrub her nails and hands, though some of the grease never goes away. Sadly, her grandmother has something to say about that too.

From Sarabeth's Garage, written by Melanie Florence, illustrated by Nadia Alam

However, when Grandma is leaving, her car sounds terrible, and it belches out smoke. Sarabeth gets to work, and this time when her grandmother tells her, "In my day, little girls didn't know how to fix cars" (pg. 33), Sarabeth has a polite but confident reply 

 

I like to think that we've moved on significantly from those days of telling girls and boys and everyone in between what they can and cannot do. When we impose expectations on people that they either can't or choose not to meet, there is disappointment and even conflict. As a child, Sarabeth doesn't deserve to have her dreams of working on cars negated. It actually wasn't even a dream. She was doing it and doing it well and with confidence and joy. Thankfully Melanie Florence makes Sarabeth a strong character who knows herself and has the support of most of her family. She doesn't let her grandmother take away her passion. And by letting young readers see a child interested in tinkering and making, Melanie Florence supports children, and particularly girls, participating in STEM activities.

From Sarabeth's Garage, written by Melanie Florence, illustrated by Nadia Alam

I may have shared an anecdote from my teaching career but let me tell it again. I remember a girl in Grade 5 telling me that she couldn't do science, and it just about broke my heart. But it also disappointed me that someone had told her that she was incapable of something. I delighted in proving that person wrong. I'm pleased that Sarabeth knew what she wanted to do, and at such a young age. Her passions may change over time, but, as long as she is true to herself, it will be fine.

 

I believe this is the first book illustrated by Toronto artist Nadia Alam that I have reviewed, though she has contributed the artwork for a number of picture books. Her art, rendered in pencil and Photoshop, has a lighthearted edge to it. It is colourful and playful, but it is also thoughtful and revealing. Nadia Alam uses great detail to give Sarabeth's activity an atmosphere of work and interest, while using expressive lines to depict Grandma's displeasure and Sarabeth's parents' support for their child and patience with Grandma's narrow-mindedness.

From Sarabeth's Garage, written by Melanie Florence, illustrated by Nadia Alam

I know that many readers may read Sarabeth's Garage as a far lighter story than some of Melanie Florence's other award-winning books (e.g., Missing Nimâmâ, 2015, and Stolen Words, 2017). But Sarabeth's Garage has an important message in its own right, reminding children to forget those who say what you should do or what you should like or what you should be. If you're not hurting anyone and you're following your passion, do and like and be what you want. Sarabeth did.