The Moon's Journey

Written by Beryl Young

Illustrated by Sean Huang

Red Deer Press

978-0-889957473

32 pp.

Ages 6-8

November 2024 

 

When Faith and her family are set to leave Wales and join her father in Canada, Faith is devastated with all she must leave behind, from their home and their cat Blackie to her best friend and even the caterpillars she was nurturing. And what about the moon?

 

I especially can't leave the moon.

 

From The Moon's Journey by Beryl Young, illustrated by Sean Huang

   

But her brother Gareth has a way to reassure her.

 

After boarding the ship, finding their berths, and exploring the ship, Faith looks for the towline tethering the moon to the ship's funnel. And though she cannot see it and worries that the rope has come loose, Gareth always reassures her, as he does day after day and night after night of their journey.

From The Moon's Journey by Beryl Young, illustrated by Sean Huang

When they finally arrive in Canada and are picked up by the children's father, Faith's concerns continue.

Would the captain remember to untie the rope so the moon could stay in Canada?

And though their dad does everything to ensure that their new home feels like home, including a new kitten, it's not until the moon reappears, seemingly bigger and closer than in Wales, that Faith that knows she's home.

 

While Faith's family's experience aboard the ship may be far more upscale than those of most immigrants, with gleaming silverware and white serviettes, Beryl Young still encompasses the tenuous nature of migration from the familiar to the unknown. By tethering Faith's disquiet about the move with the moon, a familiar and ever-present entity, even when it's not always visible, Beryl Young gives a common feature to which all immigrants can relate. The sun and moon are forever present, no matter where we are. It's a shared experience and one that we can all rely on, at least most of the time. And by reconnecting with the moon in her new country, Faith gets the reassurance she needs that things would be okay.

In addition to coping with migration, Beryl Young includes a sweet brother-sister relationship that helps Faith persevere and look for the familiar. How lovely for Gareth to create a scenario in which the moon is dragged along by the ship to their new country just to comfort the young girl.

From The Moon's Journey by Beryl Young, illustrated by Sean Huang

For historical fiction, Saskatchewan artist Sean Huang's illustrations are an excellent fit. Previously he illustrated I Am Not a Ghost: The Canadian Pacific Railway, another picture book of historical relevance, and his realistic art here in The Moon's Journey just as capably transports us to the 1950s and post WW2 immigration by ship.  Even though his artwork is digitally rendered, it leans towards the realism of classic oil paintings from the 19th c., focusing on landscapes of the sea and the ship along with portraits of the children at play or contemplation. For the historical events of post-war immigration, Sean Huang's art is befitting.

 

The Moon's Journey is a simple tale of how a natural connection between places can make all the difference in easing the hardship of something like immigration. In this case, it was most fortuitous that the moon was able to join Faith and her family on their journey and in their new country.

We Belong Here

Written by Frieda Wishinsky

Illustrated by Ruth Ohi

North Winds Press (Scholastic Canada)

978-1-4431-9403-7

32 pp.

Ages 6-8

October, 2023  

 

Eve Bloom hated being called a greenhorn especially since, although she'd been born in another country, she'd lived here since she'd been little. She often found solace, and the privacy to cry, at a special place on a high rock in the park.

From We Belong Here, written by Frieda Wishinsky, illustrated by Ruth Ohi

When a new boy, Mark Nakamura, comes to her school, he is ridiculed for being Japanese. Eve goes to his defense to stop the bullies and takes him to her special rock. In gratitude, he gives her a small turtle he'd carved. Together the two enjoy imaginative storytelling and talk about their families. They became fast friends, spending time at the back of Eve's parents' store, Bloom's Delicious Foods, and at Mark's apartment. 

From We Belong Here, written by Frieda Wishinsky, illustrated by Ruth Ohi

But then Mark's father, a craftsman with wood, loses his job at the factory because a customer didn't want a Japanese man to make his furniture. Moreover, Eve's parents are shaken when a faulty shelf almost injures a customer who threatens that no one will shop there with a new market opening nearby. By bringing their families together, both the Blooms and the Nakamuras get what they need: support, work, customers, and the welcome that says they are appreciated in their community.

From We Belong Here, written by Frieda Wishinsky, illustrated by Ruth Ohi

We Belong Here may seem like a simple story of children and families of two different cultures, Jewish and Japanese, helping each other to be accepted by their community. But, because of Frieda Wishinsky and Ruth Ohi's back stories, We Belong Here is a much bigger story and one of great historical and contemporary relevance. The need to belong and be accepted is universal. And to not be accepted because of arbitrary qualities like place of birth, religion, language, physical differences, and such is unacceptable. But, differences are what create us and bond us. They improve our lives by opening our minds and our hearts. And with that comes understanding, compassion, and harmony. When Frieda Wishinsky and Ruth Ohi brought Eve and Mark and their families together, they could confront the prejudice both head on and discreetly. Whether challenging those who mistreat a classmate or supporting someone by hiring them for a work project, these efforts remind everyone that strength and courage come with compassion, not force.

This is a story borne of deeply personal stories. As readers will learn tomorrow in my interview with Frieda Wishinsky and Ruth Ohi, their connections are very real and make the story even more personal. But the way they tell the story, readers will not be left with remembering the nastiness but instead smell the rugelach in Eve's family's store, feel the smoothness of Mark's carvings, and appreciate the coming together of people to shop, to work, to play. Through Frieda Wishinsky's sincere words, I hear friendship, and through Ruth Ohi's art, I see kindness in a different time. Together they are melded into one story, one lesson in compassion, and one to uplift and reassure that intolerance can be overcome.

 

• • • • • • •

 

For a little something extra about We Belong Here, check back tomorrow for my interview with author Frieda Wishinsky and illustrator Ruth Ohi.

• • • • • • •

A Troublesome Boy

by Paul Vasey
Groundwood Books/House of Anasi
978-1-55498-155-7
225 pp.
Ages 14+
2012

Usually, alongside my review, I like to place the book cover art in some context that plays with the book's theme or plot.  For A Troublesome Boy by Paul Vasey, this is completely unnecessary.  The shadow of a young child, the crucifix, the dark cross of window frames against some light, the title echoing as a shadow parallel to the lines of the frames - the cover is complete and perfect.  Sadly.

A Troublesome Boy of the title is fourteen-year-old Teddy Clemson who is shipped off to St. Ignatius Academy for Boys in August 1959, courtesy of his mother's verbally-abusive boyfriend, Henry, who concurs with the school's assessment of Teddy as problematic.  So begins a new phase in Teddy's life, beyond a childhood of fond family memories and then one of oblivion, after his dad took off and his mom took up with Henry.  This newest chapter of his life is the story of A Troublesome Boy.

After being introduced, by the principal, Father Stewart, to the school's expectations for respect, courtesy and hard work as well as to the punishing time-out room (an unlit broom closet with a straight-backed chair and no inside handle), Teddy meets Tim Cooper, a bespectacled fourteen-year-old with a history of break-and-enter, foster care and a passion for Wordsworth's poetry.  Known as Cooper to all, Tim is soon seen as a heroic rebel, questioning everything and everyone and constantly getting detentions and extensive periods in the time-out room.  While Teddy breaks a few of the rules himself, like going to the boiler room (the domain of Rozey, the simple handyman) to have a cigarette, he quickly recognizes and becomes heedful of the relentless and punitive nature of several of the fathers, particularly the violent English teacher Father Sullivan, and Father Prince who regularly watches the boys while they shower and routinely coaxes Cooper away from the dorm in the middle of the night.

When Saturday free times come around, Teddy and then Cooper join Rozey for drives, discussions, cribbage, often at his old farm house, and fishing, giving Cooper "the best day I ever had" (pg. 118). While enduring and questioning his role in the sexual abuse perpetrated by Father Prince, Cooper finds salvation in the boys' weekly visits with Rozey, who shares stories from his life, giving Cooper and Teddy some understanding about relationships, particularly family.  Giving Cooper his first real experience with comfort and concern, he proclaims of Rozey,  

"...where's he been all my life?  How come I got to be fourteen before someone actually went out of his way to do things for me?...What I wouldn't give to be his son.  I could've been a great son if I'd ever had the chance." (pg.160)

For the boys, St. Iggy's becomes an endurance test as they consider the possibility of running away to the beaches of British Columbia.  But, the continued abuse by the priests and Cooper's escalating distress, including for Teddy who is invited to "talk" with Father Prince too, takes the story through unimaginable tragedies, relieved only by the occasional driblet of compassion from Rozey and those outside the Catholic residential school system.

Paul Vasey's admission in his About the Author notes that he is a boarding-school survivor, as well as a board member for a mental health facility for youth, may reveal the source of A Troublesome Boy's legitimacy and poignancy.  The profanity of the boys' words and lives will be blasphemous to some readers, perhaps repulsed by the potent indecency of it all, but Paul Vasey pens their story with a light craft, emphasizing the constructs of their emotions rather than detailed accounts of the abuse.  This story should leave the reader physically repulsed by the crimes committed under the guise of reform and support while emotionally sobbing for those who have been forsaken and know it.