The Rock and the Butterfly is one of the amazing picture books we've got up for giveaway throughout November. 

Check them all out at our giveaways page, and don't miss your chance to win! 

*

Good books that feature grieving characters can facilitate conversations with children struggling with the turmoil of feelings following the death of a loved one and help adults who are grieving too. I hope the honesty and poignancy of the following books will move you as they have me.

*

That Squeak, by Carolyn Beck and François Thisdale

We don’t know how Jay’s friend Joe has died, only that his bike with the seat that squeaks is still chained to the schoolyard fence after winter has passed. When Jay decides to take the bike home and polish it up, he resists help from Carlos, a new boy who lives in a car with his father and brother. After an angry Carlos convinces Jay that he has no intention of stealing the bike, Jay comes to accept Carlos’s friendship. Beck’s accomplished prose conveys the complex range of emotions in both Jay and Carlos, and Thisdale’s moody illustrations beautifully show the story’s small town and countryside setting. 

* 

Dog Breath, by Carolyn Beck and Brooke Kerrigan

The language in Dog Breath is similarly spare and lyrical to that in That Squeak (by the same author), but Dog Breath is for a slightly younger audience. As she did in That Squeak, Beck avoids resolving the child’s grief, and instead simply provides the example of someone fondly remembering their mischievous pet and of someone who, even knowing the pet isn’t coming back, experiences the sense that they’ve never left. The light humour in Kerrigan’s illustrations perfectly captures the narrator’s affection for their dog and is a perfect fit with Beck’s text.

* 

Angus Is Here, by Hadley Dyer and Paul Covello

Angus is another beloved dog, but where most of Dog Breath focuses on the child’s past relationship with their dog, Angus Is Here focuses on the time following the pet’s death and that sense that the dog is somehow still there. A parent is on hand to offer assurance that “It will take time to get used to Angus not being with us. That’s okay,” and an older sister, to comment periodically on the narrator’s “acting weird.” (She eventually “acts weird” herself.) Dyer and Covello capture beautifully the moments when the young narrator misses their dog most intensely, the feeling of having betrayed Angus when the missing becomes less intense and the importance of sharing stories about the family’s beloved pet.

* 

Rodney Was a Tortoise, by Nan Forler and Yong Ling Kang

Forler’s spare text provides touching details of why Rodney is such a good “old pal” to Bernadette. Alongside Kang’s muted, expressive illustrations, you can’t help but feel the girl’s need to deny what’s happening as Rodney moves increasingly slowly and her sense of disbelief when told her beloved pet has died. Forler’s adeptness at creating characters who feel apart from others in some way and characters who understand them is especially masterful here, as Bernadette experiences the sense of “how can everyone go on like normal when this huge, awful thing has happened” and when Amar—through minimal and perfectly paced dialogue—becomes a friend. As in Angus Is Here, readers witness here how sharing memories with someone who cares helps soften the pain that comes with a loss, and as in Dog Breath and Angus Is Here, the heaviness of the subject of death is eased with light touches of humour, in text and illustrations.

* 

Maybe A Whale, by Kirsten Pendreigh and Crystal Smith 

It’s clear from ow much Pendreigh leaves unsaid, and from her adept use of language in what is said, that she is a poet as well as the author of children’s books. Maybe A Whale is a story about a child taking a camping trip in a kayak with their mother — a trip they would have taken with their grandfather, had he not died. Smith’s stunningly beautiful illustrations help demonstrate the awesome healing power of nature, as mother and child appreciate the vast ocean and starry night sky and begin coming to terms with their shared loss. 

* 

On the Night of the Comet, by Lena Coakley and Leslie Elizabeth Watts 

Two tigers, a great white snow leopard, and a black Persian kitten roam the pages of Coakley’s imaginative story about a night when young Peter can’t sleep for all the questions troubling him. The plants in his parents’ empty bedroom are dead and his father is sleeping on the couch. The wild cats, speaking to Peter of the Great Cat they are going to visit with their questions, provide comfort. (Watts’s gorgeous illustrations make it clear that they are friendly.) By morning Peter is able to connect with his father, to articulate his most important questions and finally, to say “Goodbye”.

* 

After That, by Lorna Crozier

A longtime fan of Crozier’s poetry, I nonetheless feel ill-equipped to review it, especially these poems written following the death of her husband, Patrick Lane. But I have no doubt that I will return to it after my own partner dies, assuming (as I know I mustn’t) that given our age difference he is likely to go first. On the subject of grief, I also highly recommend Crozier’s poems about the death of her mother in Small Beneath the Sky: A Memoir.

* 

Letters from the Club: Wisdom from Mothers Who Grieve, curated by June Anderson

This indie publication is a valuable resource for mothers who have lost a child, whether before birth, as a youngster, or after they’ve become an adult. Each letter to newly bereaved mothers is accompanied by a photo and short bio of the child who has died, or in some cases children. The scope of the collection conveys how the nature of grieving changes over time and steps mothers have taken steps to honour the lives of their children. This book has value, not only for a bereaved mother (whenever she feels capable of dipping into it), but for those wishing to support a friend or relative who has become a member of this club that no one wants to join.

*

Learn more about The Rock and the Butterfly: 

The rock was always there...until, one day, it wasn't.

The rock and the butterfly are a perfect fit. The butterfly takes shelter on the steady rock after hours of flittering and fluttering, and the rock loves to hear of the butterfly's adventures after a long day of sitting in one spot. Then one day the rock isn't where it has always been—and the butterfly is alone. It can't find a comfortable place to rest, and it eventually collapses on the ground. When it wakes, the butterfly realizes that it is lying in the exact spot where the rock used to be, and it takes comfort in all that its beloved friend left behind.