November 1, 2024
A family deals with the loss of a child. "Matty's gone," and his parents and sibling (who narrates the story) are struggling with the feelings left behind, symbolized here as holes and depicted as scrawled, tight spirals in the middle of characters' chests or on items that Matty once used. The protagonist is trailed everywhere by a hole. While some classmates don't know how to provide support, many admit to living with holes of their own, representing other dearly departed family members. One day, the protagonist sees Matty's best friend running and playing and feels upset. With the support of a friend named Nora, the child descends into one of the holes and finds comfort in crying, shouting, and throwing clumps of dirt. Nora invites the narrator to talk more about Matty, and the tale ends with the realization that "I don't hate that hole. Not anymore. Because I know I can always fill it with memories of him." This thought-provoking, poignant look at mourning never explicitly names death but makes concrete a euphemism that could be confusing to children while showing that love for a deceased family member always endures. In Magro's striking collage illustrations, the protagonist is light-skinned and redheaded, while Nora is brown-skinned with three puffs atop her dark hair. A unique and hopeful exploration of grief.(Picture book. 4-7)
COPYRIGHT(2024) Kirkus Reviews, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
March 1, 2025
This tender, deeply empathetic story, narrated by a child grieving the loss of a sibling, offers a moving exploration of grief's many layers. "There's a hole in the bottom bunk where my brother, Matty, used to sleep," the narrator reflects on the first page. The illustrator visualizes this hole as a black scribble drifting throughout the house, a metaphor for grief that captures its persistent, all-encompassing nature. The hole appears beside Mom and Dad as they try to carry on and, affectingly, over their hearts as the family sits together at dinner. "I hate these holes," the narrator confesses, as classmates react in varying ways: some ignore them, some fail to notice. A friend, Nora, takes a different approach. Curious about the hole, she stays by the protagonist's side as her friend descends into it, spotlighted in the emotional illustrations by a warm yellow light. The story reaches a cathartic turning point when the child collapses in sorrow, shouting out, "I miss you, Matty." In the quiet that follows, Nora encourages her friend to share stories. These recollections bring them to vivid life, later brightening the mood at the family dinner table and offering a sense of connection and healing amidst their shared loss. Julie Danielson
(Copyright 2025 by The Horn Book, Incorporated, Boston. All rights reserved.)
February 1, 2025
Grades K-3 Fun brother Matty has died, leaving his sibling and parents with a dark hole--representing grief--that follows them everywhere. The hole is a thick, black squiggle, the kind an angry child might draw. One day, the child narrator, particularly sad, climbs into the hole. The illustrations, rendered with watercolor washes, colored pencils, and paper collage, add emotional depth to the already effective story. At the bottom of a long tunnel, the child expresses the full heaviness of grief. Crying, shivering, kicking, and yelling, the child stomps on the hole. Being able to express the anger helps slightly, and the hole becomes golden yellow. A friend reaches down to help the child get out. Together they sit on the edge, sharing happy memories of Matty. There is no moralizing or promise of things being better, and while the hole has not gone away, there's hope it can hold some of the things Matty loved, like butterflies, elephants, and elaborately choreographed play-sword fights. Well pitched for the child audience, this book is an excellent resource for anyone experiencing loss.
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