The team of Amy Hest and Amy Bates, co-creators of The Dog Who Belonged to No One (2008), return in this heartwarming tale sure to appeal to the youngest dog lovers and their parents. (Watch out: It might lead to requests to add a new puppy to the household.)

One cloudy day at the beach, a boy encounters a truly adorable black-and-white puppy with no collar or tags. Yet even when the little dog helps him dig a sand castle, the boy isn’t quite ready to scoop the stray up. Instead, the newcomer just serves to remind the boy of his old pal, Oscar. “I know what you want. You want to be pals,” the boy observes. But there can only be one pal for him: “My old pal. Oscar. My one and only dog.”

But the little dog is persistent, following at the boy’s heels. As they walk, the boy is reminded of how much Oscar loved windy days walking by the seashore, and how the boy came to the beach the day after Oscar died. Like Oscar, the puppy isn’t quite sure about dark clouds and thunder. When the storm breaks, the boy scoops his new friend up to run home through the wind, just like he and Oscar used to do.

With its simple text and gentle pencil and watercolor illustrations, this story about letting new love into one’s life comes to a satisfying conclusion with a sleepy boy and puppy curled up at home, together at last.

Deborah Hopkinson lives near Portland, Oregon. Her most recent book for young readers is A Bandit's Tale.

One of the singular joys of picture books is the way they can bring the abstract to literal life on the page. In A Fire Truck Named Red, young Rowan yearns for a top-of-the-line toy fire truck and is crushed when his grandfather gives him the cute but clunky one that had been Papa's childhood toy. As Papa restores the toy with a bit of new paint, he tells Rowan tales of the brave rescues he and Red made in their neighborhood, and slowly but surely wins Rowan over to the truck’s value.

Author Randall De Sève’s premise is commonplace in children’s stories, where stuffed animals need only to be loved well enough to become real. Artist Bob Staake merges these worlds brilliantly. The truck Rowan wants is flashy but indistinct, whereas Red may be small but looks ready to drive off the page. Papa’s stories show up as sepia-toned movies he’s showing to Rowan, then in one ingenious frame, Rowan is pulled directly into the world of the stories, his arm and one eye already in the scene while the rest of him trails a dotted line from where he was just standing.

Rowan and Papa are both boldly cartoonish in appearance; Red is photorealistic, even more real than they are. A Fire Truck Named Red highlights the value of less flashy items—they so often have the best stories attached. It’s a visual treat and tribute to the imagination.

Engrossed in her book on fairies, a little girl with a pixie haircut doesn’t notice the actual fairies flying all around her, but her loyal bulldog companion is more observant. With the help of Sue Fliess’ delightful rhyming text, young readers can learn right along with the little girl all the tricks and tips to befriending fairies. It’s not as simple as lifting rocks or looking in hollow logs to find them. Fairies need a home, so the little girl builds one out of twigs and blooms and begins to decorate it: “Thistle fluff for fairy’s bed,/ Willow fuzz to rest her head.” Once the house is complete, with empty nutshells for swings, the little girl entices the fairies with a flower-petal stew. And once the fairies accept the girl’s open hands, they return their friendship by keeping her safe and teaching her how to fly.

It’s not just the storyline that’s reminiscent of a Disney movie. Disney animator Claire Keane offers a decidedly retro Disney flare to her charming, loosely drawn illustrations, rendered in watercolors and pastels. Daytime scenes feature earthy tones befitting the outdoors, while enchanting purple evenings allow twinkling fairy light to shimmer. For anyone who’s ever created a backyard fairy garden or placed a fairy door at the base of an old tree, hoping fairies would come and stay, this book will tug at your heart. For young readers first learning about the secret lives of fairies, this book will open up a world of imagination.

The Eiffel Tower is bored and decides to pick up and fly itself over Paris to “watch the city work and play.” This is the premise of Paris Up, Up and Away from French illustrator and paper and textile designer Hélène Druvert.

Readers follow the Eiffel Tower and see what it sees: world-famous landmarks, such as the Seine, Notre Dame and the Opéra national de Paris, as well as more commonplace city sights, such as a Metro stop, homes and parks. Written in rhyming couplets, the real star of the show here is the art, delicate and ornate paper cuts. Alternating pages serve as backdrops for the cut papers in front of them, all laid out on a stark black-and-white palette (with a bit of greyish-blue). The lasercuts are intricate, even including an Eiffel Tower-shaped hole on the book’s cover.

This book begs the question of audience. Very young children can certainly appreciate it, but the art is entirely too fragile for grabby hands. For instance, in a rainy-day scene, the page includes tiny raindrops and passersby with umbrellas. The raindrops are holes in the paper-cut page, which includes people holding umbrellas, cut from the bottom of the page; this is all resting on an uncut page with more raindrops and a skyline. The actual paper-cut illustration is mighty breakable, though beautiful to behold. Older readers, especially adults (and definitely Francophiles), will appreciate such a lavishly illustrated book.

It closes with a map of major landmarks, which is a part of the book’s very thick back cover. (The front cover is also hefty, surely to protect the finespun papers inside.) Not all of the legendary landmarks noted on the map appear in the book, but all in all, it could serve as a very basic introduction to Paris and its monuments, especially for fans of papercutting.

Julie Danielson features authors and illustrators at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, a children’s literature blog.

A lively treat awaits young readers in Stories from Bug Garden, where life is busy buzzing amid an old, forgotten place “with a tumbledown wall and a one-wheeled barrow.” This hidden world is revealed in a series of ultra-short stories (each just a page or two long) about its crawling, flying and hopping residents.

In spite of such brevity, Lisa Moser's prose packs a mighty punch into each tiny tale, introducing characters like Ladybug, who hates the thought of being a lady and instead likes to run barefoot, make mud angels and whistle through a blade of grass. Horsefly, in contrast, yearns to be true to his name as he imagines his mane rippling and hooves flashing through the garden greenery.

A multitude of small but sweet moments occur among these anthropomorphized creatures, such as the satisfaction shared when Big Ant and Cricket bicker about the best way to pick a peach. There’s ingenious Snail, who transforms trash left behind by “picnic people” into a boat, taking Ladybug and Butterfly out for a sail. And Big Ant brings Little Ant to the annual big show, that spectacular moment when the flowers burst into bloom overhead like a colorful sea of fireworks.

Gwen Millward’s watercolor-and-ink illustrations pop with just the right color combinations, highlighted with a multitude of energetic squiggles and flowery swirls. Earthworm’s brown underground lair provides a vibrant backdrop for a colorful “rainbow of roots,” while Lightning Bug flies through a night sky etched in a shade of rich cerulean blue. Millward’s insects exude smiles and big-eyed expressions that bring these stories to life.

Very young readers will enjoy exploring this out-of-sight world over and over again.

When the late Bill Martin Jr.’s name is attached to a picture book, you want to take notice. The author of more than 300 children’s books, he’s the man behind the beloved Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?, as well as Chicka Chicka Boom Boom, both staples for the preschool set. And his newest book, published posthumously and in partnership with New York Times bestselling author Michael Sampson, the dean of the School of Education at St. John’s University, is a charmer.

This is a book that looks at young creatures, including humans, all over the world. They all wake to a new day with parents by their sides. The book explores, in very basic ways, their sounds and habitats. It all kicks off on the first full spread with the sunny, loving image from Caldecott Honoree Melissa Sweet of (human) mother-and-child duos. “Good morning, little one,” the mothers ask. “Can you hear the sounds of our world?” The following spreads feature various animals and the sounds they make—and with two simple sentences on each page, the last one noting which habitat constitutes “their world.”

With such spare text, Sweet has lots of room to show off her talents with watercolors and mixed media. Her palette is dominated by warm earth tones. (The bright red on the spread featuring the eagles steals the show.) Even if groups of animals are showcased, she always lets the parent and baby take focus on each spread. Several times, she switches from a horizontal orientation to a vertical one, such as with those eagles, who are “high above the mountain peaks”; the panda bears, whose world consists of the bamboo forest; and gila monsters, surrounded by the tall cacti of the desert.

The book closes with further facts about each animal, noting where in particular Sweet sets her families. These additional notes may spark further reading for the very young readers at which this book is aimed.

This is loving, affirming book. 

Julie Danielson features authors and illustrators at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, a children’s literature blog.

Writer Ame Dyckman and illustrator Zachariah OHora earned numerous awards and accolades (not to mention grins and giggles) with their first collaboration, last year’s Wolfie the Bunny. Now the two pair up again in a story about disappointment, revenge and the importance of never jumping to conclusions.

A girl is happily flying her kite when—snap!—the string breaks and the kite flies right into a bear’s cave, where that hibernating bear rolls over and—crunch!—destroys it. “Horrible bear!” the girl shouts. The bear knows it was just an accident . . . but maybe he should try to live up to her horrible opinion of him after all. Is it too late for the pair to overcome their differences and—gasp!—become friends?

Dyckman’s well-paced text perfectly captures the kinds of childhood disappointments that can quickly blow up into big-time dramas, and she allows kids to come to their own conclusions about the moral of the story. But what really steals the show are OHora’s illustrations, which exuberantly mirror the mood of Dyckman’s prose and capture the many similarities between the red-haired girl and the orange-furred bear. Every element of the book—right down to the endpapers and boards—contributes meaning and whimsy to the story. It’s a safe bet that a gleeful chorus of “Horrible bear!” will be a common storytime refrain for a long time to come.

Sally Lloyd-Jones, a leading author of inspirational and Christian books for children, teams up with acclaimed illustrator Jen Corace in this attractive picture book about a little wren searching for her own unique gifts.

Corace’s bright, inquisitive wren will be especially appealing to young children just venturing into new settings. Like a young child, Baby Wren is curious about her surroundings, but also uncertain just how she fits in and what she can do. After all, when you’re just a little wren, it seems that everyone else is a lot more accomplished.

As Baby Wren watches a kingfisher skillfully spear dinner, she stands on the shore and asks, “Why aren’t I a kingfisher. . . . So I could fish, too?” She meets other creatures: cartwheeling, ring-tailed cats; bright, swimming sunfish; and majestic eagles wheeling high in a stormy sky. It’s not easy being a tiny wren sometimes!

When the sun paints her canyon home a glorious pink, the little wren discovers that she does possess a special gift all her own. She bursts out into joyful song: “And her bright carol reached down to the river and leaped off the cliff walls and soared into the sky.” Somehow, one tiny wren has filled the air with singing.

Inspired by a Martin Luther quotation, “As long as we live, there is never enough singing,” and graced by Corace’s child-friendly illustrations, Baby Wren and the Great Gift is a lovely way to both share the joys of the natural world with young children and also talk about how each person is unique.

Deborah Hopkinson lives near Portland, Oregon. Her most recent book for young readers is A Bandit's Tale.

Before I Leave is a celebration of friendship, as well as a lively, understated picture-book primer on saying goodbye. A roly-poly hedgehog named Zelda has big news for her best friend, an anteater named Aaron. “I found out we’re moving,” she says.

One of the things that makes this book special is the unlikely duo created by author and illustrator Jessixa Bagley, whose first book was Boats for Papa. Zelda is adorably energetic, decked out in a blue hair ribbon and big red glasses, while Aaron is enormous in comparison, with a bit of a sad-sack look lent by his large, curving snout.

The text is effectively spare, with just a few words on each spread that move the story forward while giving emotional weight to Bagley’s charming pen-and-watercolor illustrations. When Zelda tells Aaron that he can’t come with her to their new home, we see Aaron trying to curl his huge body into her suitcase.

Zelda informs her parents that she’s not moving, and the friends leave her cozy home, where boxes are busily being packed, to go outside and play “One last time, like nothing is changing.” Their joyful fun―playing tetherball, swinging, boating and playing in forts―provides a nice counterpoint to their sadness over their impending separation.

Before long, the inevitable happens: Zelda rides away with her parents on top of a load full of packed boxes, waving a melancholy goodbye. Before I Leave doesn’t sugarcoat the pain of moving, but assures young readers friendships continue. The last spread shows Zelda writing to Aaron in her new room, where a clothesline full of his letters adorns her wall. 

Hannah and Sugar is Kate Berube’s first picture book, and what a debut it is—a sweet but never saccharine story of courage found and a friendship forged.

Every day at the bus stop, a group of parents gather to pick up their children. Hannah’s papa is always waiting for her. Mrs. P is also always there to pick up Violet P. The problem in Hannah’s eyes is that Sugar, Violet’s dog, is always with Mrs. P. She’s always on a leash and always friendly—all the children hop off the bus to pet her—but Hannah would rather not get anywhere near this dog, thanks very much.

One day, Violet P. announces that Sugar has gone missing. Everyone launches a search for Sugar, but she’s not found. In one lovely, star-filled spread, Hannah sits on her porch at night and wonders how it would feel to be lost in the dark—to be scared and hungry and sad. Then she hears a whimper. Sugar is stuck in the bushes right next to her home, her leash having gotten caught. Hannah reaches out with a trembling hand to free Sugar.

One of many things Berube does so well in this story is her pacing and its reflection of Hannah’s growth. In one of the opening spreads, Berube shows the passing of the seasons, Hannah always peering at Sugar in fear. The spread immediately after that shows Sugar on the far left and Hannah on the far right with copious white space between them. When she sees Sugar in the bushes, there’s another wordless spread of the two looking at one another, darkness behind them, and this moment is followed by a very striking spread of pure blackness with merely the words, “Hannah closed her eyes and took a deep breath.”

Needless to say, child and dog become friends. Berube writes with great respect for the child reader about fear, and her relaxed, expressive illustrations are very child-friendly.

This promising debut is as sweet as sugar. 

Julie Danielson features authors and illustrators at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast, a children’s literature blog.

Aviation pioneer Ruth Law was famous for her daredevil aviation tricks (“The loop . . . the spiral dive . . . the dip of death!”), but by 1916 she had grown tired of ”flying in circles” and decided to fly from Chicago to New York City. No one had flown that far nonstop before, and Law had never flown farther than 25 miles. But, as Heather Lang explains in her account of Law’s record-breaking flight, “When Ruth Law made up her mind, there was no use trying to stop her.”

Fearless Flyer is a fine example of a creative, informative and entertaining historical picture book for young readers. It seamlessly blends the excitement and perils of this journey with quotes from Law: “When your engine suddenly stops while you’re 2,000 feet in the air, it’s some comfort to know that if anything can be done, you can do it.”

Every page combines historical details with a series of heart-stopping moments: zero pressure on the oil gauge; no gas left in the tanks; tree branches “clawing” at Law’s plane; and fog. Compelling, soaring illustrations by Raúl Colón add to this drama and draw readers into Law’s open-air cockpit as she flies over fields and farms. Lang writes: “One wrong move would send her tumbling from the sky.” It’s amazing to learn that Law steered her aircraft with two wooden levers while consulting a homemade map box, crafted by cutting and pasting map strips together, all attached to a roller mechanism strapped to her leg. Also included is a short account of Law’s life, along with photographs and a list of additional resources.

Fearless Flyer provides young readers with a thrilling introduction to an intrepid aviator and her remarkable journey.

There is something magical about a book that can help rock a newborn to sleep, whose illustrations can intrigue curious toddlers and charm adults as well. Author Linda Ashman and illustrator Jane Dyer walk us through a year, beginning with spring and ending with a mother’s embrace. With its tender underlying message of love, the story focuses on nature: blossoming plants, humming bees, animals above and below the ground. All We Know reassures children with its familiar scenes and animals, as frogs and lambs, rainstorms and the sunrise are recognizable and comforting.

Award-winning author Ashman’s text is simple and direct. Anybody who has read a child to sleep knows the importance of easy, song-like rhyming patterns and calm, familiar words. Ashman expertly uses the mother’s voice to narrate, telling this bedtime story directly to your little one. Daytime reading gives curious children an introduction to the world outside, from tunneling critters to the sky above.

Dyer’s beloved, soft illustrations underline Ashman’s message. Her animal creations—from kittens and swallows to bears and crabs—have gentle, welcoming faces. Even the thunderstorm seems cozy when you're safe in a mother’s arms. Dyer’s illustrations have a somewhat nostalgic feel, a gentle and perfect world best visited in pajamas and a rocking chair.

With its timeless appeal (the hallmark of a new-baby classic), All We Know will stand among your favorite nighttime reads. A must-have for every newborn nursery and every toddler’s bookshelf, this is the perfect book to bring to your next baby shower. 

Although she’s not well known today, Mary Garber, born a century ago in 1916, was a pioneering sports reporter of her time. Sue Macy’s engaging picture-book biography effectively captures the young Garber’s early love of sports, including football—which she not only watched but also played.

Like other women in the 1940s, Garber found more doors open to her when men left for World War II. She was able to move from her job as a society newspaper reporter (not at all her cup of tea) to take over the sports section. After the war, she continued to report on sports, covering such milestones as Jackie Robinson’s first year with the Dodgers in 1947.

C.F. Payne’s evocative mixed-media illustrations help to provide young readers with historical context for the challenges faced by pioneering reporters like Garber. One especially effective illustration is Garber wearing a press box ID tag that clearly states that women and children are not admitted. She also broke new ground by covering high school games in Winston-Salem’s segregated schools.

Garber had a remarkable and lengthy career doing exactly what she loved best—writing about sports and athletes. Although she officially retired at age 70, she continued to write for the Winston-Salem Journal until she was 86. In addition to an author’s note, Miss Mary Reporting includes a helpful timeline, resources and source notes. Teachers and librarians will especially enjoy being able to share this biography with young sports fans and budding journalists. 

Deborah Hopkinson lives near Portland, Oregon. Her most recent book for young readers is Beatrix Potter and the Unfortunate Tale of a Borrowed Guinea Pig.