I read a wide variety of picture books, and I read a lot of them. A LOT. And, sometimes, I notice a delightfully unexpected trend. Like this one. Each of these new titles features an abstract concept as a physical entity. I read Me and My Fear first. While I was raving about it to Justin, he told me about another title. While I was reading that, a book I had on hold came in . . . and the trend was set. All three of these books are great ways to talk to your kids about difficult concepts. They would work especially well in the classroom.
Me and My Fear by Francesca Sanna (September 11, 2018)
E SAN NEW BOOK
When a young immigrant girl has to travel to a new country and start at a new school, she is accompanied by her Fear who tells her to be alone and afraid, growing bigger and bigger every day with questions like "how can you hope to make new friends if you don't understand their language?" But this little girl is stronger than her Fear. This heartwarming and timely tale shows us the importance of sharing your Fear with others--after all, everyone carries a Fear with them, even if it's small enough to fit into their pocket!
The Silence Slips In by Alison Hughes (March 5, 2019)
E HUG NEW BOOK
When the party's over and the baby finally falls asleep, when the dog is all barked out and the screens are dark, the Silence pads in on soft, furry feet. A warm, comforting presence, the Silence curls up in a sun-beam like a cuddly cat and helps you read, think and be still. The Silence is friends with the Dark. Together they soothe the jagged edges left when the Noise has rolled on and gently launch the boats of your dreams into the night. When the day becomes overwhelming or other feelings become too big, the Silence slips in.
When Sadness Is at Your Door by Eva Eland (January 29, 2019)
E ELA NEW BOOK
Sadness can be scary and confusing at any age! When we feel sad, especially for long periods of time, it can seem as if the sadness is a part of who we are--an overwhelming, invisible, and scary sensation. Eland brilliantly approaches this feeling as if it is a visitor. She gives it a shape and a face, and encourages the reader to give it a name, all of which helps to demystify it and distinguish it from ourselves. She suggests activities to do with it, like sitting quietly, drawing, and going outside for a walk. The beauty of this approach is in the respect the book has for the feeling, and the absence of a narrative that encourages the reader to "get over" it or indicates that it's "bad," both of which are anxiety-producing notions. Simple illustrations invite readers to add their own impressions.