I WISH...a Universal Wish Captured In a Simple Story

It's fun to think of how many ways this new picture book will be used and appreciated across generations. The premise is direct: I WISH THAT YOU KNEW, written by Rebecca Gardyn Levington and illustrated by Alyssa Russell. The cover suggests a very warm and loving relationship between a young girl and presumed grandmother. Without knowing anything more, the wish could be coming from the elder, longing to share a lifetime of wisdom with the child. 

Or...

little bee books, 2026

...the young girl, on her own at the lower border of the cover, could be exploring on her own, longing to share what she sees and learns and knows. Naturally, families often face the reality that those precious cross-generational moments are limited to periodic visits. The first spreads could support such a situation: Maybe Grandma was visiting and has now gone home. 

But, in this case, the child's longing for a way to share her expanding awarenesses, learning, pleasures, and surprises with a grandmother not there becomes a more poignant story. 

Her loving thoughts of her missing person are suggested with ghostlike (colorful, happy, but semi-transparent) images. This offers a narrative/visual sense that the grandmother has passed on and yet remains present in the child's mind. The child's understanding appears to be that the transitional stage from "missing" to acceptance of loss includes awareness that sharing will always need to be in her heart and memories.

The subtitle of this is "A Bereavement Picture Book for Kids", although that is not indicated on the cover. In this case the family is Jewish and the signals of loss and formal good-byes are culturally specific, but the experiences and process portrayed are universal. There are those  who have not yet felt the loss of someone dear to them (although that  happens for everyone, many at a young age). But this book is suited for any time of life, not just when dealing with an immediate personal loss experience. 

As the cover suggests, the illustrations are rendered in pastels with gentle edges, expressions are sincere but not extreme, and the overall tone is one of hope and happiness. The warmth and connection of the generational relationship is delightful, and those "shadow-images" of grandma are not ones of sadness or loss, but a visual representation of the idiom so often expressed, even sometimes sounding like platitudes: They're never really gone if you are remembering them, etc. This story actually provides a sense of the continuity of lives over time and change, worth discussing and celebrating at any point in young lives. 

The brief author note after the story describes the "UNVEILING DAY" experience of attending the installation of a permanent marker, as well as explaining the Jewish practices surrounding this transition. endpapers feature illustrations of snapshots of shared happiness from the past.

Overall, this is a significant addition to classroom, school, and public libraries, as well as a useful book to share within families. That could be in the midst of a time of loss or at any time, since the continuity of life is worth our awareness and acceptance at any age. 

Where Is My Sister? A Gentle Reflection on Sibling Loss

 Few books address a child's experience of death, although some are so well done they merit call backs HERE (elders) , HERE (pets) , and HERE (Siblings).

WHERE IS MY SISTER, written by Shannon Gibney and illustrated by Huy Von Lee,  takes on the least-addressed topic in death, that of a child lost at or before birth. The extreme shift from glowing anticipation to fierce loss is a brave emotional journey to attempt, and these creators achieved something special and noteworthy. 

University of Minnesota press, 2026

In this case, the rarely addressed topic of siblings/children who die at birth is presented with  gentle nuance and deeply resonant validation of the process of grieving such an impossible loss. The cover image and many of the illustrations reveal the tragedy and loss felt throughout the family, with the father and older brother seeking comfort in faith and hope and pursuit of the spirit of the lost Toni, the coming sister whose life was so lovingly anticipated. 

But even-younger Salome struggles with the WHERE of her missing sister, not the why or how such a loss could have happened. This is quest story, Salome's quest is to find and keep her sister close at hand. Longing to believe that Toni might hear a story she reads aloud, that she is part of the family circle-hug, that she surrounds each of them throughout their day is reflected as "somewhat" satisfying when we see the final illustrations in which Salome's expression still holds sadness, but the prospect of better days and acceptance is evident. The strength of family loving resonates throughout the text and images.

I particularly appreciated that each member of the family was allowed a spread or more to suggest their personal journeys through their loss, with Mom clearly struggling the most. As in THE RABBIT LISTENED, among my all-time favorite picture books, Salome senses the value of simply staying near her mother, catching a tear and clinging to the hope that it might hold a bit of her baby sister Toni in its salty essence. 

This is certainly an ideal book for any family dealing with such an indescribable loss. As with so many other powerful books on difficult topics, it is also a superb book to share with everyone, since the experience is both heartbreakingly specific (building empathy) and also metaphorical about any tragic loss after extended anticipation and hope. That comparison is not meant to diminish the immeasurable suffering of families facing the loss of an expected child. It is meant to to suggest that everyone carries loss in different ways, and this book offers a loving portrayal of nonjudgmental and potentially helpful ways to struggle through painful times. 

This is not an upbeat or easy read, but it is one that opens conversations about deep feelings, especially among very young audiences. It does nothing to "fix" anyone else's loss, other than than to suggest that none of us are alone, and seeing the possibility of deep sadness in others can only make us better at being human to, and for, those around us as they experience  their journeys.

WALK With Me Through Powerful Picture Books

 Two new picture books share several things. Each includes WALK in the title. Each addresses topics or issues that could be (actually ARE) stressful and wrapped in grief, yet each provides a deep experience with the positivity and potential of our lives.

AND THEY WALK ON  is written by Kevin Maillard and illustrated by Rafael López. 

ROARING BROOK PRESS, 2025

Luminous illustrations offer hints (and some subtle indicators of the ethnic origins), providing a sunset endpaper spread with vibrant tones and a winding trail, then echoing the same landscape in the closing endpapers, viewing it at sunset. That unless cycle of our planet mirrors the sense that we habitants also have an endless quality. 

The text is simple and lyrical, but capture the voice of the narrator, who only occasionally clarifies that with some "I" phrasing. This gives the text a sense of the child's distance from his experiences in the early pages. Someone has "walked on" , someone he cares for deeply, but what does that mean? 

Will he see them again? Where have they gone? their room seems unchanged, and the kitchen, the "hearth" of their home still beckons. That kitchen and the family's activity there (making grape dumplings) brings the missing someone back into existence, "like a cauldron of memory".

The conclusion pages offer even more of the connection and identity of this family and its members, those present and others walking on.  The luscious language reveals shifting mood, from concern to acceptance, celebrating the cultural sense that people we love never leave us, we walk on through our lives alongside them. 

Back matter includes helpful notes from both author and illustrator, as well as receive for those grape dumplings. This certainly fits well in collections about dealing with grief, but it seems to me it has potential for helping young readers recognize the concept of Death before they even experience it. Everything about it makes me want to read it again and again.

A second book that captures big concepts through words and text that wrap readers in care and conviction is THE WALK, 

ABROMS BOOKS FOR YOUNG READERS
2023

written by award-winning creators, among my favorites. Winsome Bingham wrote the compelling and upbeat text while E. B. Lewis sets the scenes with his recognizable style:  familiar faces that might often be overlooked, shifting perspectives to assure that each person and detail merits our attention, rendered in tones that offer both depth and glow. In this case the endpapers are solid color- a golden splash that assures good things are ahead. 

The story opens with a girl and her granny preparing for a walk. Along the way they encounter and encourage folks from their neighborhood, as the girl asks questions and granny offers bits of personal and social history in simple snippets and hints. "The walk" they are taking is longer now that it once was, but no political commentary indicates why that is, or confronts readers directly with debates about access to their goal. Granny's nods to those who came before, to those who managed past struggles and walks, is subtle but certain and sincere. 

The language is direct and accessible, incorporating onomatopoetic phrases and capturing the rhythm of the neighborhood with "just right" word and illustration choices. 

"A sea of faces swimming 

upstream like a school of fish."

while the spread casts the walkers on sharp white backgrounds  as their  shadows double their numbers. 

Then the girl's big question catches in my throat as I read aloud. They arrive at their destination, and she asks, "Why do people vote?"

Granny answers firmly, "For HOPE, baby. For HOPE!" This captures the story in a nutshell, lifting it beyond a stroll or civic duty and making it personal. "Voting lets grown folks speak up."

That's just what the girls Mama had taught her to do. 

Grief and Loss: Nobody Does it Better than PICTURE BOOKS

 

TUNDRA BOOKS, 2022

Grief may not be continuous but is ubiquitous, a universal human experience at any age. Here's a story that takes every reader into the heart of loss and offers both empathy and a hopeful hand of comfort. RODNEY WAS A TORTOISE is written by Nan Forler and illustrated by Yong Ling Kang.

This particular story of the death of a nonhuman friend uses possibly the least likely critter as the pet who passes. Rodney a tortoise has outlived generations of Bernadette's family, is a constant companion whose ways are seen as fully compatible with friendship, and reveals his personality and affection in the most subtle of ways. Ways, though, that young Bernadette recognizes, appreciates, and embraces in her daily life and within her circle of family and friends.

The first pages of the story reveal all of the above and also allows the reader to develop a sense of connection, even affection, for Bernadette's "old pal" Rodney. When Rodney's slow style becomes evidently NO movement at all, Bernadette hopes that Rodney's "joker" style might mean he was simply holding his breath. She and her family come to terms with his passing with a family burial ceremony, near the lettuce patch, and by remembering the things Rodney had taught them:

"Be a pal. Slow down. Chew your food. Enjoy each piece of lettuce." 

Bernadette sings a goodbye song.

Some picture books about grief end there, providing a useful model for those heartbreaking goodbyes and inevitable losses.

But not this book. Things get quite a bit worse before they get better (hang in, please). Bernadette finds that her friends at school have nothing whatsoever to say about her loss. Despite having met Rodney at bring-a-pet-to-school day, they are quickly preoccupied with their own news and issues. Within their silence and busy-ness, Bernadette slips deeper and deeper into her own turtleneck and hoodie, isolating herself at recess time in a shell of sorrow. Eventually a classmate, Amar, climbs into her cloud of grief and asks about her sadness, sharing a single line about his own lost pet, then allowing time and space to just be there. 

This last stage of the process of gradual recovery and restoration of small joys in life is far less frequently explored in books dealing with grief. This offers so much realistic, eventual hope and resolution that it's a must-have title for those providing suggested "grief" picture books.

Another title that remains among my most often recommended was reviewed HERE, THE RABBIT LISTENED. Other titles addressing this topic are featured HERE, and HERE, and HERE. There are many other picture books that explore this fraught aspect of life, especially for young people. I suggest making a list and taking a look now, before life deals someone you love an experience for which there are so few answers or comports, other than time. There's no reason to imagine that a picture book will "fix" anything in such times of struggle, but they can, in fact, reflect and reassure, engage and even entertain. 

Grandpa Connections: Post-Covid Perfection

Last spring and summer I opened many blog posts with a "Covid19" comment, anchoring the review or interview in "Covid time" and in relation to the current status of the Black Lives Matter movement or other all-consuming social markers. I stopped that some time ago, in part because I was beginning to feel as if the Covid 19 impact on our lives was a "new normal", while it simultaneously felt  impossible to endure.

Now, more than a year has passed since the word "pandemic" became familiar rather than confusing, although no less terrifying. We've lived through more than a year without the traditions and close connections of holidays, birthdays, casual gatherings, and those all important hugs. But vaccines were developed, many of us have been vaccinated, and grandparents are FINALLY spending time with grandchildren.Two new picture books celebrate those very special relationships. Both feel as if they were written for these reunion gatherings (and beyond) despite the reality that they were in the works long before the pandemic began. And in both cases that lengthy publishing process was well spent to achieve exactly the right text and illustration pairing to capture the magic and love between a grandparent and grandchild.

Candlewick Press, 2021

MY RED HAT is written and illustrated by Rachel Stubbs.The opening spread shows Grandpa holding grandchild and a red hat on his lap. Told through his first person voice, the first line says it all: 

"I give you my red hat."

In spot illustrations, parallels strips, and double spread scenes, Grandpa's equally simple statements on each page address the many situations in which that red hat, now worn by the child, is exactly the right addition to their perfectly paired twosome. Early scenes  emphasize wry humor and surprising innovations (serving as a water bowl for a thirsty dog?). Gradually hyperbolic exaggeration in illustration and figurative language that plays out literally move the reader to understand that wearing the red hat provides the child with strength and curiosity and courage.  The child, the hat, and faith in Grandpa lead the reader to a full circle homecoming. 

When I began reading this I pictured a different ending, imagining that the return home would find Grandpa no longer there. Instead, their time together resumes in a perfectly satisfying way, followed by a gorgeous concluding double page spread at night, under the moon, with this  simple line:

"This hat is for you."

That line, that image, that final scene combine to make this a delightful bedtime book. But it is so much more than that. It's a  grandpa love story, a growing up brave and independent story, a you-are-my-world story, and a reminder that life is big and complex at the same time it is delicate and delightful and surprising. With a grandpa like this, one who gives you his red hat and the truths that it can hold, anything is possible. 

Tilbury House Publishing, 2021

Perhaps I was expecting a different ending from MY RED HAT because I had just finished reading I'LL BE THE WATER: A Story of Grandparent's Love, written by Alec Aspinwall and illustrated by Nicole Wong. This gentle book takes a very different approach in revealing the grandparent-grandchild relationship. In fact, it does something that is often discouraged in writing picture books: Ihe narrator's voice is that of a grown "child" looking back and remembering. 

In this case, the simple statements and subtle illustrations reveal humor, love, and details that will connect with readers at both ends of the ages portrayed. Both Grandpa and the boy are aging slightly from page to page as they share peanut butter and banana sandwiches, create imaginary adventures, and go fishing. 

Over the years, the boy notices that Grandpa's skin had grown too big for his face, and his hands shook when putting a worm on the hook. His answer to the boy's question is as simple and fun as their lives together:

"I've been getting old since I was a baby.

I'm just getting better at it."

After Grandpa's long scary stay in the hospital, they resume their times together. But Joshua's mind is a rushing current of questions. Their discussion about dying includes sensitive recollections, reassurances, and even some humor. I won't quote or even paraphrase Grandpa's wise and gentle insights about surviving the loss of his own father are young age, because the combination of text and illustration are stronger together. There is nothing original in the spirit  and truth of Grandpa's conversation and assurances, but it is well-told and unfolds on the page in ways that are unique and memorable. 

The full circle effect of the ending accounts for that "look back" adult voice early in the story. The  central message is captured with immediacy and balanced emotions in the conversation featuring some extended dialogue from Grandpa. That does not become static or overly serious because his voice and the shifting perspectives of the illustrations allow readers to feel we are listening in on a conversation we were meant to hear. It is soothing and sinks in with a comforting ease.

Now that vaccinated  grandparents can resume being physically present in the lives of their grandkids, I wish every child the opportunity to spend time with a grandparent or two in everyday experiences. These books call to mind that the everyday shared chats and activities are the fabric of an eventual memory quilt of love, memories that will wrap and support those who are left behind. 

And, lest you suspect I've favored the grandpas by featuring these two books, take a click back to find a recent post about Grandmas, HERE.

LOVE from Alfie McPoonst, The Best Dog Ever.

I'm giving this post an anchor in time:  

Ending first full week of official COVID 19 sequester. Daily news briefs make for an odd mix of confusion and specificity. I seek sources to validate that we are all part of a single humanity on a precious blue planet, We are more alike than our differences. Our happiness and grief are universal experiences. May we never forget that. While various expert (and decidedly NON-expert) voices debate a potential death rate from the COVID-19 pandemic, life also proceeds, and ends, in its normal course.

In the past several days I've had friends sadly part with elderly parents and beloved pets. I'm not equating those two experiences, nor comparing those painful-though-predictable deaths to corona virus suffering or the death-defying struggles of healthcare professionals. 

All engage us in varying degrees of suffering, loss, and grief. 

Kane Miller 2020

For this fraught time I offer a gentle and warm-hearted new picture book. The premise is that a departed, beloved pooch delivers consoling letters to his loving young person, easing them through wrenching grief to eventually arrive at acceptance. 

LOVE FROM ALFIE McPOONST, The Best Dog Ever is written by Dawn McNiff and illustrated by Patricia Metola.

The text is delivered through charmingly lighthearted and tender notes from the beloved-but-deceased dog, Alfie McPoonst. 

Not everyone is a "pet" person, but many of us are. We know all to well that deep angst when the time has come for a pet's loyal devotion to be released, for a long, well-lived life to end in good-bye. Adults comprehend the comparatively short lives of pets and anticipate that ending. Many young children have never breathed a day wtihout that pet-partner in their lives, at their sides. 

There is a lovely bi-level expectation within this story and book design. Adults will recognize the parents' effort to console a heartbroken and lonely child, delivering letters addressed as only a dog would:

TO IZZY

THE DOG BED

THE FAMILY ROOM

IZZY'S HOUSE

NEAR THE LITTLE PARK

Young audiences will cling to this possibility, to this reassurance that Alfie has managed to reconnect and reassure, to comfort and encourage from his new life as a Sky Dog. The return address is equally appealing, and Alfie's first message clarifies what readers of any age already realize:

Dear Izzy,

I'm a Sky Dog now.

I live in Dog Heaven,

because I died.

Letters arrive filled with smile-inducing descriptions of a new life of fun, treats, and discoveries. Illustrations and page turns reveal the passage of time through clothing changes, seasonal progressions, and stages of grieving and adjusting. The more time passes and the more Alfie revels in his doggy delights, the more we witness a family finding comfort in shared memories and growing love. 

The conclusion is both reassuring and promising, delivered with a childlike voice and charm to match Alfie's tone. It is a satisfying journey to peace of mind through text and concept.

It is in the illustrations, though, that the journey introduces, deepens, and ends its emotional arc. With swaths of color and  fine intentional lines, as real and raw as the ache of loss, Metola welcomes a universal audience to the experiences shared on the page. Little Izzy and parents are distinctly white, but are displaying relationships that transcend race and ethnicity in recognizable ways. 

The opening endpapers depict the moments of first goodbye to Alfie, with the family gathered, backs to the reader, near a small marker in the meadow: "ALFIE". From then on  every image is a balance of small meaningful details and washed, subtle progress. Humans and Sky Dogs appears in relation to each other, evolving into new patterns and paths.The concluding endpapers mirror the opening scene, but characters are now facing forward, moving, smiling, with lively little signs of new life tucked among the grasses.

In this time of worry, fear, and loss, let's work hard to pull back our focus and provide a perspective from the starry skies, a view that reminds us we are all shipmates on our shared BLUE BOAT HOME, music and lyrics by Peter Mayer, 2002. Listen HERE.

Suddenly- Grief and Loss

On past Memorial Day weekends I've shared thoughts on that subject and recommended various titles in previous posts, here, here, and here (and more). I linked those to reassure myself that I'm not neglecting the important topic of veterans lost to us in service by veering to a more general theme in this post. 
It's not as if I haven't written about death and loss and picture books in the past. Just enter  death or grief in the search box on the right and you'll find some of the many books I've recommended on this topic. In each case, though, I've found the books first and shared my reactions and recommendations for various uses.

This post, however, is a response to a specific situation, a heartbreaking loss that left me, and I suspect everyone else involved, feeling helpless. I often have to bite my tongue when faced with loss or tragedy, desperately grasping for something, anything, to offer those suffering some tangible relief beyond my sympathy. This is exponentially more true when the grief involves children. The older I get the more aware I am of how grossly inadequate and even inappropriate that impulse is. 

Dial Books for Young Readers, 2019

A recently released picture book makes this point more brilliantly and beautifully than I can. THE RABBIT LISTENED is written and illustrated by Cori Doeerrfeld. 
This little book offers a universe of wisdom. It opens with utterly appealing scenes, introducing a character, Taylor, about whom we instantly care. 
Then trouble swoops in: sudden,  shocking, irrational. Taylor is rightly dismayed. 
The author/illustrator's use of caring, well-meaning, and slightly absurd animal interveners highlights the fact that each portrays a "fixer" approach- giving advice that wasn't sought. Even though the effort is sincere and the suggestions are generally textbook-smart, there is little or no effort to "read" the child and realize that time and circumstances make their well-meaning offers, well, meaningless.
Then Rabbit arrives. As the title says, Rabbit Listened, recognizing and absorbing Taylor's raw emotions. Rabbit's only role is to be present. To offer comfort without expectation or exit. Only then can Taylor (who could be a boy or a girl) try out various reactions, move through stages of grief, and work through the pain of loss until it is resolved. As comforting as this book may prove to be for young audiences, it should be considered an advanced course in human outreach for those of us with the "fixer" impulse.

While respecting the privacy of the family involved, I'll share the circumstances that prompted this post. It involved the recent sudden death of a bright and kind young man. He was the husband of a woman I've known since she and her sister were in elementary school, girls who had cookies and cocoa at my table and helped me open up my classrooms in each fall. Now that little girl I knew has grown to be this young woman. She and her husband are both young professionals, parents of an incredibly bright and sweet five-year-old girl. That former little girl and her own daughter now face the daily reality of drastically altered lives, shifting dreams, and an achingly deep absence in their futures. 
My fixer impulse surfaced in full force, but with an absolute awareness that nothing "fixes" this situation. Nothing can, nothing will. 
That's when I remembered this picture book. I also checked for other titles at CHILDREN'S BOOKS HEAL, a blog by Patricia Tilton and  BOOKS THAT HEAL KIDS,  a blog by Roxanne. I turned to the power of picture books based on the way they can act as the rabbit: to be there, to be present and available, waiting to listen and share the child's grief  whenever and however they are able to express it. 

Star Bright Books, 2013

Those and other searches led to two more very specific titles. These may help now or wait in the wings for several months, or more. The first is ALWAYS BY MY SIDE, written by Susan Kerner and illustrated by Ian P. Benfold Haywood. The simple but lyrical text inspires lovely examples of the ways in which young children can turn to happy memories and moments of comfort to feel the presence of a daddy who has died. The story was inspired by the author's own experience in being the widowed mother of a young child while pregnant with another. This is the book she hoped to find. GEEKDAD blog presents an interview with the author. An added benefit of this book is the diversity of the characters, settings, and supporting cast which emphasizes the universality of the situation and the human responses. 

Magination Press 2007

Another book that could be useful as the months pass is SAMANTHA JANE'S MISSING SMILE: A Story About Coping with the Loss of a Parent, written by Julie Kaplow and Donna Pincus, illustrated by Beth Spiegel. This story, written by two professionals in the field of grief and anxiety in youth, tenderly explores and supports young Sarah Jane as she resumes her "new normal" life after the death of a parent, in particular helping her to accept moments of happiness, even laughter. The story reminds Sarah Jane that, as she recovers a full range of emotions, she can experience happiness without feeling guilty or worrying that it means she is forgetting her parent. 
The story directly addresses these questions but is kid-friendly. Back pages provide additional professional advice to surviving parents supporting a child through such a loss. Magination Press is a publisher curated by the American Psychological Association with a long track record for topic-specific titles that have helped countless children and families. 

Now, back to the Memorial Day question. I grew up at a time when veterans were lost to war,  but those were wars that lasted five to seven years. Even so, they produced a nightmare of losses and family grief. Our current war(s) has extended nearly two decades. For many of the white crosses and  fluttering flags there are young children feeling that loss, whether raw and new or achingly present after many years. Whatever the reason that young people are left dealing with the death of a parent, there are ways to support the grieving and dealing process. Books can help.
But, above all, remember the rabbit:  Be present. Listen.

Dealing with Death: THE YELLOW SUITCASE

Death and grief are difficult experiences at any age. Even the youngest infants and toddlers experience disruptions to schedules and sense the emotional intensity radiated by family members in grief. 
School age children are developing awareness of the finality of death, feeling deeply the immediate loss of loved ones from daily life or from the matrix of extended family and memories. Discussions about death and loss at that age are challenging, at best, and often avoided rather than explored. That's why death-at-a-distance is particularly jarring for children. Picture books offer surprisingly powerful scaffolds on which important and necessary conversations can be built. 

Penny Candy Books, March 12, 2019

Many picture books rely on the comfort of animal characters, fables, or metaphorical tales to allow portrayals of death to move from the immediacy of personal sorrow into a safe zone, one at arm's length.
THE YELLOW SUITCASE, a debut offering from author Meera Sriram, was inspired by her own family's experience and confronts the subject directly. 
The pain Asha feels at her  grandma's death is complicated by the distance between their homes and the loving routine she had established when she traveled from California with her parents to visit in India every year. Asha has lugged her vibrant yellow suitcase back and forth each time. She brings it stuffed with special treats for her Grandma who, in return, fills that case with special surprises and remembrances when it was time for Asha to return home. 
Once they arrive at Grandma's home in India, Asha observes her family's grieving and remembrance rituals, smells the incense, notes familiar pictures, sorting the familiar from the unfamiliar. That process begins as soon as they arrive when Grandma's chair sits empty on the porch. Asha asks questions of her father, even though she knows the answers in her heart. 
The yellow suitcase becomes a symbol of unwelcome changes: the losses, the helplessness Asha feels, her emptiness. Only when it is time to return home does she realize that the suitcase has been filled with a special gift, a quilt Grandma made for Asha from the comforting fabric of her favorite saris. Only then is Asha able to spill her tears, gather Grandma's portrait, and carry with her the love that will never die.

This is a universal story with dynamic specificity in the illustrations, including a variety of two-dimensional art. On some pages it is sticker-like, on others somewhat surreal, and on others it is comfortingly familiar. Illustrator Meera Sethi's career encompasses design, textiles and clothing, and it shows. 
Asha is a character of nonspecific age, with a distinct sense of collage-like fashion. Although I found myself wanting Asha to be younger on my first read, I came to appreciate her potential strength in a preteen(?) identity, suggesting a developmental stage of deep emotion, firmly anchored memories, and cognitive capacity combined with a longing to regress, to NOT understand death. 
India is not named in the text, but iconic indicators throughout make that clear to adult readers or those with global awareness. For others the colors, images, and intensity will intrigue and encourage further investigation. This distinctive style, story, and setting are a welcome addition to picture book shelves. My "virtual" friend, author/publisher/entrepreneur Richa Jha, is a leading voice in picture book trends in India and I believe this book will be welcome there, too. I've featured Richa Jha's work in a prior post, HERE. As the world is shrinking I welcome the opportunity for our hearts to grow, to embrace global stories and styles. The Yellow Suitcase is a wonderful place to start.

It is available now for preorder and will officially release March 12. I was able to review an advance, untrimmed copy thanks to the publisher, PENNY CANDY BOOKS in exchange for a fair and honest review.