Levi's Gift

Written by Kathy Stinson

Illustrated by Ellie Arscott

Nimbus Publishing

978-1-77471-498-0

32 pp.

Ages 3–7

November 2025 

 

Kathy Stinson's latest picture book, beautifully illustrated by Ellie Arscott, tells the story of Levi, a boy who loved to play his violin while his brother Ezra played the accordion. But that was before the war came, and Levi and his family are forced from their home. The yellow star on Levi's shirt tells us more of his tragedy. By the time he is sixteen, the war is over, and his family is gone, as is his home. But he dreams of getting a violin again and making music.

From Levi's Gift, written by Kathy Stinson, illustrated by Ellie Arscott

Frugality and hard work help him buy a violin again and he "poured his great sadness about all he had seen and all he had lost in the war." (pg.9) With time, he emigrates, marries and has a child for whom he plays the beloved Brahm's "Lullaby" that he'd played with his brother. For many years, Levi plays his violin, but when his hands grow stiff and it becomes difficult to play, he stores his violin away.

 

When a call goes out for donations of used musical instruments for a school, Levi hesitantly decides to take his violin out of storage and give it away. When he receives a letter from a little girl who invites him to visit her at her school, Levi learns that his violin and the music played on it have the capacity to heal in many ways.

From Levi's Gift, written by Kathy Stinson, illustrated by Ellie Arscott

Kathy Stinson, award-winning author of picture books, non-fiction, and middle-grade and YA novels, has a lovely connection with stories of the violin (e.g., The Man with the Violin, 2013; Dance with the Violin, 2017), and Levi's Gift is another wistful story of those touched by music and the playing of the violin. But, with Levi's Gift, Kathy Stinson also reminds us of the many losses that happened during the war. For Levi, that violin was more than just an instrument. It was a connection to his past, to his family, to happy times, and more. It was a joyful connection to a time before. To give up his violin, even to a worthy cause, was a challenge for Levi. Yet, that gift begat a new one, with Levi making a new connection and one that related to his past. I was tearful realizing how Levi's story had come full circle with different characters, with a different violin, and in a different place, but with quiet consequence and subtle benevolence. 

Ellie Arscott, who illustrated Night Walk (Sara O'Leary, 2020), A is for Anne (Mo Duffy Cobb, 2023), and The Warmest Blanket in the World (Tamara Levine, 2025), has a lightness to her artwork that works well with gentle stories such as Levi's Gift. Ellie Arscott uses paint and pencil to give context for Kathy Stinson's words, showing us more than just people and place. She gives the reader history and ancestry as well as story, and there's much tenderness reflected in her illustrations. Levi may be an elderly man but making connections with his past and with others is what elevates him. Ellie Arscott's  use of pastel colours, particularly blues and pinks, keeps that softness of feeling and story.

From Levi's Gift, written by Kathy Stinson, illustrated by Ellie Arscott

Through their words and art, Kathy Stinson and Ellie Arscott remind us that music and generosity contribute and communicate beyond the immediate. You never know when a simple act of giving can touch another and in unexpected ways. For Levi, it is magical, even spiritualistic. (Once you see his reaction to the girl's playing of the violin, you'll understand.) I could see Levi's Gift being based on a true story, but, even if it isn't, this story offers hope that sometimes that which is lost returns in a different way to reconnect us to the past and to complete us in the now.

Our Corner Grocery Store

Written by Joanne Schwartz

Illustrated by Laura Beingessner

Tundra Books

978-1-77488-791-2

32 pp. 

Ages 3–7 

September 2025 

 

When Our Corner Grocery Store by Joanne Schwartz and Laura Beingessner was first published in 2009, it was heralded as a tribute to  neighbourhood shops and the communities they supported. It was a finalist for the Marilyn Baillie Picture Book award. Now with a new cover, Our Corner Grocery Store will introduce new readers to Anna Maria and her nonna and nonno as they work and bring their community together.

From Our Corner Grocery Store, written by Joanne Schwartz, illustrated by Laura Beingessner

On Saturdays, Anna Maria visits her Nonno Domenico and Nonna Rosa's corner grocery store. This is her favourite day of the week. After her nonna feeds her a hearty breakfast in their home which is behind and above the store, Anna Maria gets to work in the small shop. She sorts freshly-delivered bread and sweeps. She plays outside with her friend Charlie and watches her nonno and nonna serve customers. They make fresh sandwiches and watch as the neighbourhood kids pick out their sweet treats. And with only a few breaks to help make dinner and play with Charlie, Anna Maria enjoys a full day at her grandparents' corner store.

From Our Corner Grocery Store, written by Joanne Schwartz, illustrated by Laura Beingessner

For those who've enjoyed a local grocery store, where you were served by familiar faces and chatted with friendly staff, Our Corner Grocery Store is a reminder of the community that is rarely enjoyed in our world of big box stores and chain supermarkets. While there are still wonderful examples of these corner stores, they are fewer and far between now. So, for many, Our Corner Grocery Store is a reminder of a different time. It was a time when children could go alone to the corner store and pick up a freezie and sit on a stoop and enjoy it with their friends. It was a time when candies were selected and placed in small paper bags, rather than in pre-packaged bundles. Many children will not know these times, but their parents may, and their grandparents definitely would and Our Corner Grocery Store will open discussions about how things have changed and how they're still the same. (Most children will still recognize the freezies—even if called ice pops or something else—and the joy of picking one out on a hot summer day.)

From Our Corner Grocery Store, written by Joanne Schwartz, illustrated by Laura Beingessner

Joanne Schwartz, who wrote the award-winning Town Is by the Sea (illustrated by Sydney Smith, 2017), captures a sense of community and family in Our Corner Grocery Store. That community is both one of neighbours and family with Anna Maria helping all of them. It's refreshing to see a child helping her grandparents without whining that she'd rather be on her tablet or demanding to do something else. Joanne Schwartz has reminded us that there is still an innocence in children that makes them want to be with their family and do modest things like sort fruit and help make meals. I know those kids are out there but too often we get the books of precocious children who do silly and outrageous things for laughs and just because they can. It was lovely to visit Nonno Domenico and Nonna Rosa's grocery store, especially as Laura Beingessner captures the very essence of a neighbourhood store and a child's place in it.

 

There's a freshness and simplicity to Laura Beingessner's illustrations. Using ink and paint, she gives details but doesn't lose the sensibility of the store and its neighbourhood. Most of us will recognize a store with its wooden-slat bins holding a collection of fruits and veg with hand-printed price signs, and a store with candies alongside brooms, moka pots, and toilet paper. But Our Corner Grocery Store is more than just about a store. It is about a place of people (and cats and dogs). And Laura Beingessner includes them all. 

From Our Corner Grocery Store, written by Joanne Schwartz, illustrated by Laura Beingessner

I have a strong desire to go find a local grocer and get some fresh produce, say hello to those who welcome us into their domain, and hope that, like this grocery store, it will continue to serve, to flourish, and to provide goods and community for many years to come.

 

• • • • • • •  

 

The 2009 edition of Our Corner Grocery Store:

What's in the Cookie Tin?

Written by Yolanda T. Marshall

Illustrated by Golnoush Moini

Chalkboard Publishing

978-1-77105-884-1

36 pp.

Ages 3-8

2024 

 

Who doesn't have an assortment of cookie tins kicking around the house? Whether they were the packaging in which biscuits were purchased or tins specifically purchased to store cookies, most people have at least a couple. But what is inside a cookie tin cannot be discerned until that lid is removed. And when a tin displays an assortment of tasty treats, what would most children anticipate? 

From What's in the Cookie Tin?, written by Yolanda T. Marshall, illustrated by Golnoush Moini

Olivia and Benjamin head over to their grandparents' home, looking forward to their grandfather's wacky pranks and the hugs they get from Grandma. But they are especially keen to go through their father's childhood toys in the guest bedroom. That is, until Benjamin spots a blue and gold cookie tin on a shelf. Their struggle to open the tin–those tins can be a struggle for little hands–is interrupted by lunch.

From What's in the Cookie Tin?, written by Yolanda T. Marshall, illustrated by Golnoush Moini

Surprisingly, they revisit that cookie tin when Grandma goes to mend a tear in Olivia's dress. But why would Grandma want cookies to repair a torn dress? The surprise is on Grandma, though, much to the delight of the children because Grandpa had another trick up his sleeve.

From What's in the Cookie Tin?, written by Yolanda T. Marshall, illustrated by Golnoush Moini

Yolanda T. Marshall speaks to so many with this playful and yet innocent story of a cookie tin. That cookie tin, with which many who have ever enjoyed butter cookies from a tin will be familiar, brings joy and laughter through a little fun, a lot of tastiness, and a family-load of affection.  And Yolanda T. Marshall, who also wrote the recently reviewed Hot Cross Buns for Everyone!, not only tells a charming intergenerational story, but she also gives us a story of a black family. Though the number of stories with persons of colour are ever increasing, it's lovely to read a story that would allow black children to see themselves and their families as typical and sweet and lighthearted, as every child should.

 

Golnoush Moini, an illustrator and 2D animator from Vancouver, keeps that playfulness in her prominent colours and well-defined shapes. It's also refreshing how dark-skinned Golnoush Moini makes her characters, not trying to appease non-BIPOC who narrow-mindedly expect families of lighter skin. From the grandparents to the grandkids, the characters in What's in the Cookie Tin? are convincing real in appearance and activities.

This cookie tin is busy, getting opened by grandparents, children and parents, and swapped between cookie vessel and sewing kit. And yet it's a bigger story. Yolanda T. Marshall includes "Cookie Tin Memories" at the conclusion of her story in which educators share their own fond remembrances of cookie tins that held everything from buttons to craft supplies to loose change and even baked goods. (Butter cookies were often housed in these blue tins and Yolanda T. Marshall includes a recipe for them too.) But no one knows what's in the cookie tin until that lid is pried off and the secrets within revealed and share. So, what's in your family's cookie tins?

My Grammie's House

Written by Lana Button

Illustrated by Skye Ali

Tundra Books

978-1-774880784

40 pp.

Ages 3-7

September 2024

 

Over the holidays, many children will have visited the home of their Grammie or Grandpa, Baba or Opa. Hopefully, with those visits came many great memories. But what if Grammie is no longer there? What happens to those memories? For this child, those memories are still intact and significantly linked to their Grammie's house.

As a couple drive up to a house for sale, they are met by a child who has lots to tell them. 

You're going to love my Grammie's house.

You'll love every single thing about it.  

From My Grammie's House by Lana Button, illustrated by Skye Ali

So begins the most personal house tour ever. The child takes them through the house and yard, showing them everything that they did with their Grammie and how Grammie lived there. (Skye Ali's illustrations brilliantly depict what had been in place, now gone, with light pink sketches of plants and picture frames, lamps and furniture.) The house hunters learn how the kitchen floor is great for skating, where Grammie used to sit to do her sitting exercises, and where the cranberry juice and cereal were kept, and where Jethro, the cat, likes to hide.

From My Grammie's House by Lana Button, illustrated by Skye Ali

They find Grammie's old sweater, and they play in Grammie's yard on the old swings and in the climbing tree. There is nothing this child doesn't about this house.

 

Even with all the attributes of Grammie's house laid out to them–the child calls it, "The best house ever. You are so lucky!"–there is still one thing they'll need and the child is happy to fill it.

From My Grammie's House by Lana Button, illustrated by Skye Ali

For many children, visiting a grandparent at their home will be as much about the place as it is the person. Their memories are what they saw and did there are as crucial as the feelings evoked by the grandparent. For this child, Grammie's house is a bundle of memories of food and smells, activities and sounds. Grammie may no longer live there, whether by a move or a death, but that house is still filled with her and continues to evoke wonderful memories for this child. Better yet, Lana Button does not convey any sadness or anger from the child at other people moving into Grammie's house. She tells it as the grandest of all welcomes, a sharing of memories and an invitation of appreciation. Lana Button makes this child the best real estate agent on the planet. (No surprise how the story ends.)

From My Grammie's House by Lana Button, illustrated by Skye Ali

Skye Ali, an American illustrator who works in gouache and coloured pencils, keeps the house tour by the child bright and inviting, using bold colours and lines that evoke movement and expectation. As they walk (or run) room to room and outside, Skye Ali brings us with them to experience a shag rug, cold water out of the hose outdoors, and flying to the clouds on a swing singing, "Weebly Womp. Weebly Womp."

Though Grammie no longer lives in this house, she still lives in this child through their memories of the time spent in Grammie's house. The connection of child and grandmother with place is almost tangible, palpable in the cookies that were eaten, the texture of the flooring, the warmth of the sun through a window, and the comfort of a climbing tree. This was and always will be Grammie's house, with or without Grammie.

BTW we need the recipe for those scotch cake cookies. The child promised to share.

Raven, Rabbit, Deer: Q & A with author Sue Farrell Holler and illustrator Jennifer Faria

Written by Sue Farrell Holler
Illustrated by Jennifer Faria
Pajama Press
978-1-77278-136-6
32 pp.
Ages 4-7
November 2020

Reviewed here

Yesterday I reviewed Raven, Rabbit, Deer, a new picture book from Pajama Press, by author Sue Farrell Holler and illustrator Jennifer Faria. Today I am pleased to present an interview with the author and illustrator.

 

HK:  At its heart, Raven, Rabbit, Deer is the story of an intergenerational relationship. Did either of you have a significant relationship with a grandparent that helped guide you in the telling of this story in words or pictures?

 

Sue Farrell Holler:  Thank you for recognizing this as a love story – the love between grandfather and grandson, the grandfather’s love of the land and the grandson’s love of play.

I adored my maternal grandmother but, because we didn’t travel much when I was a child, I saw my grandparents only for about a week a year, yet I think I carry part of her spirit. She was a very quiet woman who liked to garden, to cook and to gather people in her home. I never had the sense that anyone was invited; it just seemed that her house was always filled with people coming and going and she fed them all.

I think there is something very special about quiet relationships, the comfort of being with someone and not feeling the need to speak. That’s how I felt around my grandmother.

I wasn’t conscious of that when I wrote the story, but certainly, that’s the type of relationship we see in Raven, Rabbit, Deer.

Jennifer Faria:  Let’s just say my family history is colourful and complicated. My closest grandparent, one of my step-grandmothers, sadly passed away during the making of Raven, Rabbit, Deer. It’s disappointing, because she was one of the only members of my family who was excited about and interested in the book, and she didn’t get to see the finished product.

I have always had a good relationship with my great-aunt Glenna, who is a member of the Chippewas of Rama First Nation, as I am. She exposed me to countless cultural events in and around Toronto throughout my formative years, which likely set the stage for my artistic development. I based the look and feel of the grandfather character on her brother, my great-uncle Leonard, and she provided me with many reference photos of him.

 

HK:  Because the species highlighted in Raven, Rabbit, Deer occur throughout Canada, did you have a specific setting or location in mind when writing or illustrating the book?

 

Sue Farrell Holler:  Yes. I had a very clear setting in mind. The place is called Muskoseepi Park, which incidentally, means “Bear Creek” in the Cree language. It’s an 1100-acre mostly wilderness area that runs the length of the city where I live, Grande Prairie, Alberta.

Except for paved walking trails, this is primarily a natural park that’s populated by lots of animals – magpies, woodpeckers, ravens, sparrows, chickadees, geese, ducks, and herons in the summer. There are beaver, deer, moose, rabbits, muskrats, chipmunks, squirrels, mice and occasionally bear and cougar. But the animals I encounter most often are birds and mule deer.

The area is my favourite part of the city. It’s where I walk almost every day to keep tuned into nature.

Jennifer Faria:  Since Sue lives in Grand Prairie, Alberta, I assumed that some of the details of the walk in the story might be local to her, so at first I was going in that direction. However, in researching which animals I would use, I found that to get a raven, a rabbit, and a deer together in the same place, in winter, it would have to be set in Ontario. So that’s what I imagined.

 

 

HK:  One of the unique features of Raven, Rabbit, Deer is the inclusion of Ojibwemowin. Was the choice of Ojibwemowin related to either of your backgrounds? If so, how and was it a language spoken at home?

 

Sue Farrell Holler:  The inclusion of the First Nations’ language is one of my favourite pieces of this story. I’m a bit of a “language nut” and I love the unhurried cadence of many of the Indigenous languages. When they are written, they are these really big words that you have to slow down to sound out and to me, that’s exactly how the language sounds, as if every word is a story. 

Ojibwemowin is a new language to me, but my dad taught us a few words of Mi’kmaq – mostly the words that mean, “Hurry up!”

I am not of Indigenous heritage, but Jennifer is a member of the Chippewas of Rama First Nation.

Jennifer Faria:  I am technically a member of the Chippewas of Rama First Nation, however growing up in Toronto, I was not raised in that tradition, so I don’t know the language myself. For that, I consulted with my second cousin Janice (uncle Leonard’s daughter) who is qualified and educated in these matters, and she kindly provided the translations.

HK:  Raven, Rabbit, Deer is very much a sensory experience, from the visual of footprints in the snow looking like two hot dogs with two marshmallows, to the characters’ puffing as they climb a hill  and the snow shower that tickles the child’s face and the cold that creeps down his neck. Even without the illustrations, your text is very evocative. Did you start the story with these sensory elements or did you start with a story arc into which they were embedded?

 

Sue Farrell Holler:  Thank you for that!

Stories for me always start with emotion. While Raven, Rabbit, Deer appears to be a nature story, it is something a little bit deeper.

I’m very much myself and very much at peace in nature. With this story, I was thinking of how I’d like to share my experience with children and to encourage them to explore the natural world. For many kids, that will mean a city park, but it’s amazing what you can find when you slow down and really look. Key to that, of course, is knowing what to look for.

  

 

HK:  How flexible does an author have to be with an illustrator’s visualization of their words? As your visions may be very different, how do you allow the two to merge?

 

Sue Farrell Holler:  A picture book is an interesting collaboration. The author and the illustrator work with the same text, but usually in isolation.

I’m probably not supposed to say this, but the illustrations are my favourite part of a picture book. The illustrations make the words that much richer.

I love knowing a story has spoken to an artist, then seeing how she brings her perspective and experience to my words.

When I saw Jennifer’s final illustration – the one of the boy and his grandfather cuddled together – I teared up. It’s so tender and so beautiful and totally captures what this story is about.

 
HK:  If you could ensure young readers take away one message from Raven, Rabbit, Deer, what would it be? 

 

Sue Farrell Holler:  I would hope that children come away with the sense of security and comfort that comes from loving someone.

 

 

HK:  Though you’ve worked as an artist, this is your first picture book.  How did you find the process of illustration from working with the text, and trying to honour the author’s message to being true to your own style and artistic expression?

 

Jennifer Faria:  Many stages of development went into the creation of the preliminary artwork, with lots of input from the art director to help interpret Sue’s message, so that aspect fell into place pretty organically over time. With regard to my style and artistic expression, I went with the more bold, clean, and intricate look that I usually use in my portraiture (using multiple layers of acrylic paint and coloured pencil), which was probably too labour-intensive and inefficient relative to my deadline. I think it worked. However, if I get the opportunity to illustrate more books in the future, I might like to experiment with a looser, quicker style, perhaps in watercolour.

 

HK:  It’s not unusual for authors and illustrators to look to those in their circles for names and traits. Do the grandfather and child in your illustrations reflect any family or friends?

 

Jennifer Faria:  As I said previously, the grandfather is modelled on my great-uncle Leonard, whom I only met and spent time with a handful of times (he lived in B.C.), but he was a very strong and delightful presence, full of warmth and good humour. I used some younger photos of my son as references for the boy, and the green bear in the book is based on
my son’s own green teddy bear.

 

 

HK:  I’ve seen two different book covers with different details of your name. Which is your professional artist’s name and which name do you prefer me to use in my post?

Jennifer Faria:  At first I was going to go with both my maiden name and husband’s last name, but later decided it was best to stick with just my maiden name, hence the change you mention. I didn’t want to rebrand, plus I have a lot of history and equity built into ‘Jennifer Faria’ as a professional identity, so that’s the name on the published book, and the one I prefer.

 

• • • • • • •

Thank you, Sue and Jennifer, for your candid answers to my probing questions about Raven, Rabbit, Deer.  These details about the book, both text and illustrations, as well as your own backgrounds, will undoubtedly enrich its storytelling for young readers.

Thank you also to Laura Bowman, Sales & Marketing Manager at Pajama Press, for facilitating this interview with Sue Farrell Holler and Jennifer Faria.

 • • • • • • •

Also, do check out my review of Raven, Rabbit, Deer yesterday for more details about the book and to see samples of its illustrations.

Harvey Comes Home

Written by Colleen Nelson

Illustrations by Tara Anderson

Pajama Press

978-1-77278-097-0

224 pp.

Ages 8-12

September 2019

A scent, a touch, a colour, a voice. They can draw memories. And memories can take you places. They can take you away from the present and towards something else. They can take you to a past that needs to be remembered or give direction to follow forward. And they can take you home in more ways than one.
 
Harvey is a West Highland Terrier who is left in the care of a dog-sitter while Maggie and her family go on holidays. While they are away, Harvey gets out of his yard and "His curiosity takes him farther and farther away from his home." (pg. 18) After several days away, scrambling for food, attacked by another dog, distracted from a rescue, Harvey is found by eleven-year-old Austin who helps his Grandpa out after school at the Brayside Retirement Villa. Though his mother and grandfather insist that Harvey's owners must be looking for him and that Austin needs to take him to the shelter to help locate them, Austin lies about his efforts, hopeful that he'll be able to keep the dog.

During the day, Harvey stays with Grandpa Phillip at Brayside where everyone, staff and residents alike, fawn over the Westie who acts as an unofficial therapy dog. But when Austin arrives, Harvey accompanies him on his chores. When the reticent Mr. Pickering takes a liking to Harvey, Austin finds the ninety-six-year-old man finally willing to talk and share about his past. He talks of his own dog, General, and of growing up during the 1930s. Though Mr. Pickering is sometimes confused about who Austin is, whether his own wife is still alive, and what Brayside is, he goes to a place of memory with Harvey by his side. As for Harvey, when he "sits beside Mr. Pickering, he drifts off into a place of contentment." (pg. 69)

While Mr. Pickering reminisces about living during the Depression and his complicated friendship with an abandoned girl named Bertie, Harvey's memories of Maggie are fading to elusive scents and sounds, Austin continues in his uncomfortable lies, and Maggie searches desperately for the Westie. Colleen Nelson's title may give away a happy ending for Harvey but it's wrapped in a complex tug-of-war of emotions as Mr. Pickering tells his heartrending stories about hardships and tragedies and lessons about forgiveness are learned.

Told in alternating chapters from the perspectives of Harvey, Maggie and Austin, Harvey Comes Home is not just a story about a dog lost and found. It's a story about the bonds between human and dog. These are the bonds that tie us in love and gratitude, responsibility and empathy. They are the ones that give us our humanity via our benevolence for others. But Harvey Comes Home is also about the power of memory to bring us home. I will admit that Colleen Nelson's story brought me to tears time and time again, as an aging Mr. Pickering grabs at his memories, as Bertie survives against all odds, and as Harvey and General are loved and love.  Colleen Nelson always tells a good story (see her YA titles Sadia, Blood Brothers, Finding Hope, and The Fall for a great sampling) but, in her first middle-grade novel, she is able to grab the reader's heartstrings while blending a dog story with an intergenerational relationship and embedding profound reflections on the Depression and the Dust Bowl. It's a complete package as Harvey's, Maggie's and Austin's stories converge, integrated with heart and important messages about connecting with others and forgiveness for mistakes made when scared, hurt or alone.

Harvey Comes Home will make dog-lovers hug their animals and children ask their grandparents to share their stories from their own childhoods, bringing all a little closer and giving life to new memories for all.

From Harvey Comes Home by Colleen Nelson, illus. by Tara Anderson

Dancing with Daisy

Written by Jan L. Coates

Illustrated by Josée Bisaillon

Running the Goat, Books & Broadsides

978-1-927917206

44 pp.

Ages 4-8

June 2019

Dancing with Daisy is a grandfather's story told to a grandchild intrigued by an album of old photos and memories. It's also a a fisherman's story so you know it might be a bit of a tall tale.

From Dancing with Daisy, text by Jan L. Coates, art by Josée Bisaillon

"Back in '62 it was, a frosty fall day." So begins this fisherman's tale of the onslaught of Hurricane Daisy as she "came roaring up the coast. She whirled and spun and whipped the waves into such a frenzy, they started leaping straight up onto the deck."

From Dancing with Daisy, text by Jan L. Coates, art by Josée Bisaillon

In true tall tale fashion, the grandfather exaggerates Daisy's impact as she  throws him onto an island and tugs and grabs at him to draw him into a dance. His wrinkles are the result of Daisy trying to bribe him with dollars that sliced into his skin and created scars. His arthritic hands came from clutching the branches of the tree and his blue veins resulted from her freezing cold breath. His raspy voice came from barking communications with a seal washed up on shore and he lost his hair when Daisy grabbed at his hair, playing "He loves me, he loves me not."

From Dancing with Daisy, text by Jan L. Coates, art by Josée Bisaillon

He returned to shore first on a handcrafted raft and then upon his own home's red roof, walking seven back-breaking miles before losing his teeth that ended up as icebergs. Daisy only abandoned her quest to dance with the man after "Nana went out and gave her a good talking to."

From Dancing with Daisy, text by Jan L. Coates, art by Josée Bisaillon

The grandfather undoubtedly remembers every detail of his harrowing assault on his fishing boat while besieged by Hurricane Daisy which tracked through the Maritimes in early October of 1962. It took six lives in Canada and smashed fishing boats, piers, and buildings with its rainfall and high winds. But the grandfather of Jan L. Coates's story protects his grandchild from the devastating truths of Daisy's impact and instead makes it into a tall tale that explains his aging, its own overwhelming trial, even ending with a good laugh.

Josée Bisaillon's art is a wonderful accompaniment to Jan L. Coates's story, taking readers to the Atlantic coast of colourful buildings, cold grey waters and tumultuous weather through her illustrations of watercolours, pastels, pencil and cut paper. Presenting the wind is a formidable task but Josée Bisaillon conveys movement and power in the water and the sky without restraint. It may be scary and mighty but it's still playful in its dance, and with the affectionate closeness of grandparent and child, Dancing with Daisy becomes more intergenerational tale, even if a little tall, than recall of a disaster.

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

Running the Goat Books & Broadsides shares a video of Jan L. Coates discussing her story and background for Dancing with Daisy on YouTube.

Uploaded to YouTube by Running the Goat on June 27, 2019.

Ojiichan's Gift

Written by Chieri Uegaki

Illustrated by Genevieve Simms

Kids Can Press

978-1-77138-963-1

32 pp.

Ages 3-7

April 2019

When Mayumi was born, her grandfather built a special rock garden to celebrate.  Then each year, she would visit him in Japan for the summer months, spending time with her Ojiichan while learning to tend to the garden, including how to weed, water, prune and the all-important raking of the gravel. Over this task, grandfather and granddaughter would bond.

From Ojiichan's Gift by Chieri Uegaki, illus. by Genevieve Simms

Amidst the bustle of her own city, Mayumi would recall those special times and that Zen garden by studying her tin box of treasures: dried leaves, tiny pine cones and smooth rocks.

From Ojiichan's Gift by Chieri Uegaki, illus. by Genevieve Simms

But with time, things change. Little girls grow up and grandfathers grow older.  The summer comes when Mayumi's parents must visit Japan to pack up Ojiichan's house which, like his garden, cannot be cared for by the now wheelchair-bound man. Frustrated by her Ojiichan's new circumstances, Mayumi's tries to take on the garden. But it's only when she concedes, creating a Zen garden for Ojiichan in a lacquered bento box, that Mayumi can find calm again.

Chieri Uegaki has honoured her Japanese heritage once again, having already helped showcase it in Suki's Kimono (Kids Can Press, 2003) and Hana Hashimoto, Sixth Violin (Kids Can Press, 2014). In these previous stories, a young girl looks up to her Obachan who gifted her with a kimono or to a grandfather who plays Second Violin in a symphony orchestra. In Ojiichan's Gift, a girl is again looking up to a grandparent, here a grandfather who has gifted her with a garden that celebrates her birth. But when he can no longer care for that garden, that little girl, not so little anymore, gifts him with a portable garden that would enshrine his original forever.

... if she closed her eyes and listened, she was certain she could still hear the pebbles' soothing chatter.

From Ojiichan's Gift by Chieri Uegaki, illus. by Genevieve Simms

Genevieve Simms creates that same distinction of adoration and respect in her illustrations. While her artwork goes beyond the garden, including spreads of air travel and life in a Canadian city, it's Genevieve Simms's illustrations of the garden that favour Chieri Uegaki's message of serenity and connection. The rocks and the shrubs, the trees and gravel, bamboo and sparrow all create a living world in a dry landscape. It's a world perfect for meditation and companionship.

The garden may have been Ojiichan's gift to Mayumi and her bento box garden may be the gift she presents to him, but the greatest gift is the relationship between Ojiichan and granddaughter and that's something special to contemplate.

The Moon Watched It All

Written by Shelley A. Leedahl

Illustrated by Aino Anto

Red Deer Press

978-0-88995-537-0

32 pp.

Ages 5-9

February 2019

The moon may watch over all of us, sometimes only shining light or hiding in the dark, but, like a watchful deity, it is omnipresent, guiding with a subtle beacon for those seeking direction.

An orphaned boy with only vague memories of a woman's voice and a gentle hand survives alone seeking food and clothing wherever and living in the forest. Elsewhere a woman known as Miranda lives in her home near the woods, rocking and talking to the moon.

She praised it, like she once prized her children, in a time before a time that was then.

From The Moon Watched It All by Shelley A. Leedahl, illus. by Aino Anto

After a man brutally chases the boy away–"Get you, Boy"–he runs far away, finding shelter in a chicken coop and food in an adjacent garden. The moon whispers to Miranda of the boy in the garden but it is not until she is ready to invite him inside for better food and shelter that the two become true companions, finding a way to be themselves with each other.

The Moon Watched It All may be marketed for ages five to nine but I think it is an allegory of such depth that it can and should be read beyond those ages. At its foundation, it is a story of an orphan boy, scorned and rejected, who finds a home with a woman alone who talks to the moon. But, in each, they find the family that they have lost.

From The Moon Watched It All by Shelley A. Leedahl, illus. by Aino Anto

Shelley A. Leedahl's intense story may be in prose form but its intensity parallels that of poetry, steeped in the melancholy of Miranda ...

Her face in the moon's unwavering spotlight. She was a lake unruffled, the coal fire's glow. 

... and the isolation and trepidation of the boy.

Night came calling, and he thought of boots, of heels, and the finger-quick hands. He thought of the children with sticks, and villagers who possessed the power to look right through him. The boy held out his own hand, and could not keep it steady.

From The Moon Watched It All by Shelley A. Leedahl, illus. by Aino Anto

There is a stillness of person and place that seeps into the story which is far more extensive in text and lyricism than in books typically for the very young. As such it has a strength of message that is both serene and profound. It bears being read over and over to capture the importance of the text and its voice of solemnity and grace.  I don't know if that comes from Shelley A. Leedahl's skill as a poet but her words lull and inspire and tug and reassure.

The same goes for Aino Anto's illustrations that take the readers through the forest and beneath the moon, watching and waiting as the boy and the woman do. This is Aino Anto's first picture book and her paintings evoke such emotion without indignation at what are sad circumstances for both the boy, whose identity is only that of Boy, and for Miranda, who endures the passage of time rather than biding it for hope. Or that was the situation until they make a family of their own.

I wept for a mother alone and forgotten and a boy ignored and abused. Each alone in their own ways, one speaking to the moon and one living outside in its light. And the moon watched it all as the two come together, as a waxing moon, growing into something important.

Body Swap

Written by Sylvia McNicoll

Dundurn

978-1-45974-090-7
248 pp.
Ages 12-15
September 2018

Why do we all think the grass is greener on the other side of the fence? Is it because we can see over the fence but don't know what it feels like till we're over there? Or is it that we assume it must be better elsewhere because our sides of the fence seem less than perfect? In Sylvia McNicoll's latest middle-grade/YA Body Swap, the proverb of that greener grass is found to be accurate i.e., the grass is not always greener.

Fifteen-year-old Hallie Prince can't seem to get her nose out of her cell phone and, while rushing into the mall to catch her crush Chael Caruso, she is hit by a Hurricane SUV driven by 82-year-old Susan MacMillan. Both die, temporarily, and are transported to a carnival-like world where Eli a.k.a. God gives them five days to accomplish something positive that might give their lives different endings. But Eli, who reappears throughout the story only identified by his tattoo of Carpe diem, switches their souls so that the independent Susan, once plagued with the ailments of the elderly like arthritis, heart problems and digestion complications, is now in the robust, dark-skinned body of a teen who is mobile, eats everything, and is waiting for her first kiss. Meanwhile Hallie is expected to drive, though she doesn't have a license, suffer the tedium of Susan's son Ron and his wife Sheryl who are convinced she needs to go into a seniors' facility, endure physical limitations, wear boring clothes and more.

By convincing all that Hallie is Susan's adopted granddaughter arranged through an empathy project at school, the two interact regularly, including via their new cell phones. In a comedy of errors, Susan and Hallie learn to adjust to their new bodies and circumstances and take on some sleuthing to investigate mechanical problem with vehicles like Susan's Saji Motors' Hurricane, hopeful of ensuring no lives are lost as theirs (almost?) were.

What a ride! From accident to a visit to the other side and back again, Body Swap takes readers to places they will probably never know. Just like Susan and Hallie who get to see the lives of others by swapping bodies, readers get perspectives on youth and the elderly, making good choices for themselves and others, and being open and compassionate to all. Susan and Hallie may believe at first that Eli has cost them their own lives but their new bodies and perspectives gain them so much in the way of learning.

I know when I pick up a Sylvia McNicoll YA novel like her Crush. Candy. Corpse (Lorimer, 2012), Dying to Go Viral (Fitzhenry & Whiteside, 2013), and Best Friends Through Eternity (Tundra, 2015) that I'm going to get real teens. Their stories may have unique elements like returning from death or being charged with manslaughter but never, never are they outrageous or unbelievable. Sylvia McNicoll knows how to weave a story around characters who could be our best friends or neighbours or classmates and never have us rolling our eyes at plot lines or voice. She gets it right every single time. Body Swap continues that tradition, giving true voice to a teen as well as an elderly woman, allowing readers to share in their lives as Susan and Hallie share in each other's. It's a compassionate look at walking in another's shoes and at the gains of having relationships with those different than ourselves.

Ebb & Flow

Written by Heather Smith

Kids Can Press

978-1-77138-838-2

232 pp.

Ages 9-12

April 2018

If you've been reading this blog for a number of years, you'll know what a fan I am of novels in verse. These are stories told in free verse form and the authors who do it well are highly accomplished at writing with impact and few words.  I can now add author Heather Smith to that very short list of accomplished writers of novels in verse.  And she is extraordinary.

Ebb & Flow is the story of twelve-year-old Jett who has been sent to spend the summer with his Grandma Jo. Though he has been sent to stay with her because of a troublesome year, Jett is happy to see Grandma, having many positive memories about her before his move with his mother to the mainland.

I remembered

hugs that were big for her size,

her arms growing

like expandable straws. (pg. 9)

Wordplay is the dialogue between the two who love talking in puns, with Grandma telling her story as if she were a character in a series of anecdotes.  Sadly, because of the mistakes he made over the past year, Jett sees himself as the villain of his stories, deserving of little goodness, including his grandmother's love. Even away from the negative influence of Junior Dawson, a bully and angry classmate, with whom Jett teamed up, the boy cannot shake the bad thoughts about people and the anger he harbours about his own actions.  

In titled chapters of only one or two page verses, Heather Smith subtly reveals Jett's history and the events that led to his relocation for the summer.  In fact, Jett's character development is so subtle that the change in Jett from angry and confused boy to responsive and responsible is as inconspicuous as the tides that come in and go out.

Grandma?

Yes?

Why can't things just stay the same?

Because life is like the tides.
In, out.
Back, forth.
Push, pull.
High, low.
You just have to go with the flow, you know?

Yeah...
(pg. 177)

The reader will sense Jett's progression in increments, as slow as when he and Grandma Jo creep along the beach looking for sea glass, and then he's there, asking to visit his father and telling his own story to his grandmother.

Ebb & Flow may refer to Jett's responses to the ever-changing circumstances that impact him, including his own choices and mistakes, but the book makes a powerful statement about resiliency and the power to ride the tidal motion of life. Sometimes you need a little help, like Jett gets from Grandma Jo who never pushes her grandson to come to an epiphany, though she helps him get there with her love and guidance. Ebb & Flow makes it clear that, with forgiveness to others and self, people and relationships can be salvaged and, like sea glass, taken from sharp edges to soft gemstones.

In Grandma's hand,
five pieces of sea glass –
two white, two green,
one red.

I didn't find anything, I said.

You will.
(pg. 26)

The Spirit Trackers

Written by Jan Bourdeau Waboose

Illustrated by François Thisdale

Fifth House Publishers

978-1-92708-311-6

32 pp.

Ages 4-8

November 2017

It's been far too long since the CanLit world has welcomed a book from Jan Bourdeau Waboose, a First Nation Anishinaabe of the Ojibway Bear Clan of northern Ontario.  Adding to her stunning collection of picture books which includes SkySisters, Morning on the Lake and Firedancers, Jan Bourdeau Waboose's telling tale of Ojibway traditions and the relationship between children and their uncle is breathtakingly illustrated by François Thisdale, award-winning artist of The Stamp Collector, Missing Nimâmâ, and French Toast.  The Spirit Trackers is a magnificent story in words and art, melding together First Nations and an intergenerational relationship with legends and spirits and the wonder of children.

Illustration by François Thisdale 

used in The Spirit Trackers by Jan Bourdeau Waboose

Two cousins are awed by the stories told by their uncle of their clan, the Moose Clan, and their heritage of extraordinary trackers but it's the story of the Windigo that truly captures their attention.  His story of the Wandering Night Spirit of Winter is a warning to the boys. 

"Watch out for the Windigo on a winter night.  It has a heart of ice, and its teeth are like steel.  It will eat anything in its way!" 

"Even the best Trackers disappear in Windigo's footsteps."

In the night, the boys are awakened by a Thump! Bang! and, upon seeing a black shadow cross the window, are convinced the Windigo has visited their uncle's house.  The next day, however, evidence in the snow and on a tree compel the two to put their tracking skills to work.  But far from the house, hearing a sad cry that "slices the air like a trapper's knife" the two are immobilized with terror.  It may not be the Windigo but the boys demonstrate the aptitude in tracking and their reverence for the natural world, especially for an animal they know to honour.

Jan Bourdeau Waboose infuses her atmospheric text with the companionship of family and an appreciation for traditions and legends of First Nations. Because of that, an occasion of storytelling becomes more; it becomes a lesson in caution and curiosity and heritage. Tom and Will are apt students at their Uncle's knee, listening, hearing and learning.  Resplendent in snow, the frigid medium of trackers, The Spirit Trackers is an appropriate visual and textual read for the winter season.  Artist François Thisdale makes sure that his illustrations transport readers to that frosty season and to a life of snowshoes, moosehide clothing, and ravens.  Combining photographs, drawings and paint with digital imagery, François Thisdale lends a supernatural essence to the story, perfect for a pair of boys already spooked by their disquietude about the Windigo but determined to follow the path of their tracker ancestors into the unknown winter stillness shattered by a haunting cry.

Illustration by François Thisdale 

used in The Spirit Trackers by Jan Bourdeau Waboose

Whether you believe in the Windigo is irrelevant.  The boys believe, as does their Uncle, and in the stillness and cold of winter, it's a story, like The Spirit Trackers, that has much to teach.

❅❅❅❅❅❅

The illustrations included in this review are derived from illustrator François Thisdale's Facebook page at Thisdale illustration.