It’s a beautiful book which speaks to a common childhood fear. When the dark gets tired of everyone pushing it away, being the cause of so much fear, it leaves altogether, leaving a world bathed in unending light. At first everyone is delighted, even if they can’t tell the difference between night and day. But eventually a small boy starts missing the sounds of crickets and the twinkling of stars. His parents explain that these are gifts of the dark, and that when it went away, so did they. The young boy decides to set off in search of the dark to convince it to return. Along the way he comes across a burglar who misses the shadows to hide in, a poet who misses the mystery of the dark, and a gardener who misses the smell of night jasmine, among others. As their band grows, the dark hears their cries and is persuaded to return and is welcomed. The illustrations are dreamy and fanciful.

As early readers go, this one’s got a nice story to it, sweet, with a bit of pattern, and a simplicity about find that which we can each appreciate in our own backyards. It puts a different than normal twist on the idea of pets, but one that may be comforting to a child who longs for one, but is denied the typical variety. When Sugar wakes up late and goes looking for a playmate, she finds all her siblings engrossed in playing with their own “pets,” in which Sugar is less interested, even arguing whether they qualify as pets: one has made a pet of the pretty flowers that blow in the breeze, another has adopted the busy worms she loves to watch, and the third is busy chasing her pet butterfly. By the time they come to see if she’s ready to play, she’s too busy playing with her own pet clouds, which are beautiful and busy blowing in the breeze, inviting them all to chase them. The illustrations are fun and cartoon-like, adding a bit of silliness to the simple story.

It’s a very early version of a graphic novel, for the youngest of readers. It includes three short stories about two best friends, Red Robot and Blue Robot: the first about something going bump in the night, and Blue Robot declaring he’s not afraid of anything, though it’s obvious to reader and friend alike that he is; the second about Red Robot sticking up for his friend when a third robot makes fun of his favorite hobby; and the third about Blue Robot’s worries about being sad and lonely when he discovers a train ticket that Red Robot has purchased, only to discover that there are two tickets and the friends get to go on an adventure together. Though the simple plot lines might seem a bit preachy, they’re leavened with just enough humor to keep them from being overly pedantic.

As the only human child in a class full of wild animals, our young narrator is dismayed to learn that the upcoming class field trip won’t be to a nice civilized location like the planetarium or natural history museum, but a trek into the wild to study plants and animals. His dairy entries capturing the adventure continue the theme of misery (poison ivy, bugs, lack of toilet facilities, etc.), but in the end, when the group gets lost, he’s the one who knows the way back to the bus, and he’s able to enjoy the butterflies and scenery and time with his friends. In the end he decides to have a campout of his own, but only in the backyard. The illustrations that accompany the story really add to the telling, full of fun and personality.

Another installment for Angelina Ballerina fans, this one is as cute and frilly and sparkly as is to be expected. This time Angelina is honored to be invited to join in with a performance of real grown-up dancers. Her young cousin, Henry, is invited to participate as well, but he struggles with remembering where he’s supposed to be and what he’s supposed to do, and Angelina has to help him a lot. She’s jealous when he’s given a speaking part, but she helps him anyway, and on opening night he flubs up again, changing is line from, “There goes my friend the magic fairy,” to “There goes my best friend, the magic fairy,” as he points to Angelina, showing that mistakes can be sweet.