I do like this book. And I do think it’s a good book to have in any library.  I think it does a good job of handling some sensitive material with compassion.  But I would recommend some degree of caution in choosing the audience you share it with.  It begins with Sophie and Maddi playing together in the park, when hunger sends Sophie running to Maddi’s apartment for a snack, despite Maddi’s protests.  Upon opening Maddi’s fridge to see what she’s got, Sophie finds only some milk, which Maddi says needs to be saved for her baby brother.  After being sworn to secrecy, Sophie goes home to her own full fridge and her mother fixing a healthy fish dinner, which her little brother complains about.  Sophie decides to save some to take to her friend the next day, only to realize that though fish may be good for kids, it’s not good for backpacks.  The next day she discovers eggs don’t keep well in backpacks either. She eventually finds some food she is able to share with her friend without spoilage, but decides she can’t really help her friend alone, so decides to tell her mom, despite her promise.  Throughout the story, as Sophie is looking for ways to help Maddi with food, Maddi is also helping Sophie with her climbing, which helps to keep a sense of balance, with both friends having something to offer the other.  Still, knowing that 93% of my students qualify for free lunch, I hesitate to think how they might feel if they identify too strongly with Maddi.  On the other hand, in my old school with a solidly middle-class population, this would be a great tool for helping students to recognize that not all families have as much as theirs’ might.

Targeting the very youngest readers, the text is a simple list, written in first person, of “things I like about me,”  specifically things I can do, finishing with, “the think I like best about me is that I can be with you.”  There is a repetitive pattern to the text which offers a sentence frame for young writers to imitate, and the illustrations support the text for young readers.  Besides, it’s just plain really sweet, without being cotton candy.

The illustrations are gorgeous!  The setting is a small African village.  The problem is universal:  the smallest girl in the village getting picked on and teased by her peers.  The solution is found in the magic of imagination:  every night Imani’s mother tells her stories, and upon hearing the tale of the goddess of the moon, Imani dreams of touching the moon herself; she continues to endure the teasing of the other children as she persists with assorted failed attempt including climbing or flying to the moon.  After watching a celebration involving warriors in a traditional jumping dance, Imani jumps to the moon, meets the goddess, and receives a gift of a small glowing moon rock, and has her own story to tell.  The logical part of my brain that finds scientific fault with the way the story ends is charmed anyway by the beauty of the story.

A nearly-wordless book, this is an ABC book of noises (I won’t pretend I know how to spell oneomonopeia).  A=Ahoogah, B=Beep Boop, etc.  The illustrations show some fun, colorful, cute robots manipulating large metallic letters on a grassy field until the final page shows the whole gang gathered around the fully assemble alphabet.

It’s bright and colorful, and provides a good example of traditional aboriginal artwork as well as an introduction to 26 critters indigenous to Australia.  It’s an ABC book in which Anteater is anxious to share something amazing with Bilby or Chuditch or Dingo, etc. But every critter it approaches is too busy doing something else, until after Zebra Finch is too busy snoring, and the illustrations show us that Anteater is enjoying a book; upon noticing what a good time Anteater is having, all the other animals decide they’re not too busy after all.  The illustrations are fun, and it could be used as an introduction if a class was about to start researching Australian animals, but really the text is a bit repetitive and less than stellar.

An illustrated poem that lists several different types of birds and puts words together to sound like their calls, but keeps coming back to the refrain, “But have you heard the nesting bird?”  It concludes with the hatching of the baby robins.  At the back of the book, and endnote answers a series of questions as if the bird were being interviewed about its nesting habits. The illustrations are all in earth tones, which might not hold immediate appeal for young readers, but they really are quite beautiful.  A good introduction for young scientists to observe the birds in their yards, looking for words to describe what they hear.

Every library should have The Little Engine that Could.  It’s a classic tale with a timeless message that every child needs to have access to.  This particular edition is a board book and “an abridged edition.”  I’m not usually a fan of abridgements, but if it hadn’t declared itself so on the cover, I wouldn’t have noticed, as it did a good job of keeping all the pertinent meat of the original tale.  And though I don’t usually select board books for my shelves, I do recommend having a basket or two on hand for use with the special needs classes who come, so the kids can enjoy the books without destroying the general collection.

It’s a celebration of imagination, and the scope for it that a small boy finds playing outside on a snowy day.  While big brother sits inside, watching TV and playing on the computer, little brother heads outside to play in the snow.  The illustrations share with the reader the wonder of the boy’s imaginings as we see a snow-covered tree take the shape of a friendly snow-monster, the snow-monster he makes come to life and play with him in his snow castle, until he flies home on the dragon of the sunset, only to find his brother finally ready to come play with him in the snowy dusk.

It’s not bad.  It’s got rhythm and rhyme, and the illustrations are bright and play with perspective a bit.  But I can’t figure out why it got the “Moonbeam” award sticker on its cover.  It can’t claim to have much of a plot. It basically does exactly what the title says, capturing a moment with a family of four sitting on their front porch, with one brother listening to his tunes, one brother drinking a soda, dad snoozing, and mom taking a picture of the moment.  There’s just not much to indicate why we’re supposed to care about this particular family or this particular moment.

An everyday story that reminds us all to be grateful for the things we do have, rather than counting the things we wish for.  It begins as CJ leaves church with his grandmother and waits in the rain to catch a bus.  Throughout their journey, CJ is full of questions and complaints (Why do we have to wait in the rain? Why don’t we have a car? Why do we have to go here after church?), seeming determined to feel sorry for himself, but for each of his negatives, Grandma is able to point out a positive — the drinks the rain provides for the trees, the people they get to know on the bus, etc.  By the end of their journey, CJ is full of wonder at how his nana always fins beauty where he doesn’t think to look, and announces that he’s glad they came, and the illustrations show the readers that he and his helping serve meals to those less fortunate than themselves.