100 books like The Pond

In the delightful book, a granddaughter enjoys many fun activities with her grandmother, especially dancing like a leaf. Grandmother begins to change in many ways, especially physically and with her memory. And then “Grandmother’s bed is empty.” The child grieves but slowly feels comfort and even joy as she celebrates the many activities she had shared with her grandmother.

This book shows a child grieving after the death of his mother.  The gorilla is a subtle but strong metaphor about those who help us through the journey of grief. Words are spare; the illustrations are powerful. In this picture book, grief is shown as heavy, silent, and colorless.

Sometimes it can help to tend to gardens or fly kites or just think about something else.  But mostly, it helps to simply talk about it.” Words and images in this book show a comforting and caring relationship between a boy mourning his mother and an imaginary gorilla.  The gorilla encourages the boy to do the activities he once did with his parents – helping with the garden or flying kites. The gorilla helps the boy talk to his father about missing Mom, and in doing so, together, they find a way to heal.

With few words and simple images, we journey with a child as she becomes friends with an elderly neighbor who also loves birds, nature, the changing seasons, and expressing that love through art. But as the change of seasons continues, the girl’s elderly friend becomes fragile in health and strength. Even with an ache in her heart, the child discovers the comfort of remembering special times together and gathering together the drawings they shared. At night, while watching the rising of the full round “frog moon,” the child bundles up close to her mother and “My hands feel warm, and the covers feel soft, and I think of my friend until I fall asleep.”

In this book, we observe the mourning traditions of a Jewish family. A young daughter and her father show us their grief for their mother and wife. They do not want to invite others to come to their home and “sit Shiva” with them. They feel alone in their loss. But friends and family come. 

People bring food, memories, stories, love, and caring. Healing begins. In her author's note, Erin Silver concludes, "What every faith has in common is the idea of community. When someone dies, people bring food; they talk, and they gather. People have a need to care for each other, and the mourning process gives people that chance to share."

It is this coming together – the expression of care and kindness - that is the power of community to help us all heal. 

In poems as varied in sound and shape as each subject, we are introduced to a pond and its inhabitants—from frogs, ducks, and turtles to cattails, duckweed, and microscopic water bears. I love this book equally for its poems and for its beautiful, hand-colored woodblock prints (which won it a Caldecott Honor). The illustrations show each creature or plant and their specific niches in the pond, and the sidebar text tells more about each one, but in the poems we hear their voices—beginning with spring peepers:

Listen for me on a spring night,
on a wet night,
on a rainy night.
Listen for me on a still night,
for in the night, I sing.

I love nothing more than books that engage with the imagination of a child. Worlds of possibility are revealed when we allow our imaginations to lead us along. Ernest D. finds a new world inside his home pond. All it takes is a glance into the water for an adventure to unfold.

I also love how Kuefler doesn’t shy away from sophisticated language. It is great for vocabulary building. I adore books where I can explain those big words to the kiddos. It stretches my own understanding sometimes too as I grasp to find the best way to explain something. The pictures are mysterious and fantastical with a dark pallet that sets a complementary tone to the words. Let your imagination wander with Ernest D! 

Okay, I suppose I’m cheating a bit by choosing this title as a representative of an entire series! Honestly, I love the Over and Under series because each book makes us think about the different layers of life.

What can we see? What can’t we see? Reading these books will make readers curious about the world. What a great way to introduce ecology to young audiences. I love the illustration style as well; the pictures are magical. Overall, I love the concept of peering past what we can see on the surface of things.

AKA a 4th book I wish I’d written, but not sure I could have pulled off the setting. 

Each floor of the Whippet Hotel is well… you judge. The floors may be haunted or have caves and ponds or a flying farm or just might be a giant pinball area where the couches act as flippers. That may be intriguing enough, but there’s also a missing owner plus the son of the caretaker (living in the more normal but ultra-cluttered basement) who is given a series of boxes that may help him save everything that’s important in his life. Within the wild and wacky, this is a book filled with heart.  

This isn’t a traditional travel book and not a traditional memoir about depression, but a combination of both. Her journey to Antarctica becomes a metaphor for her mental health struggles throughout her life, starting from childhood. 

What I love about this book, and her writing in general, is the dark humour, her acerbic observations and true understanding of how paralysing and perilous depression can be. She understands how painful depression is, the depths it can take you to and seeing your own darkness reflected by someone else is both comforting and validating.

This is no less than Kasril’s fourth memoir, and the one that resonates most with my own existential worries as a privileged white man. Why did a nice, working-class, Jewish boy from Johannesburg take up armed struggle against institutionalized racism? Become a cabinet minister in the country’s first democratic government devoted to expanding social welfare for Africans? Become a trenchant critic of the rot that subsequently set into the party he helped bring to power?

With profound humility and wit, Kasrils takes us through his boyhood years to reflect upon the often-humiliating process of acquiring political consciousness. He speaks to anyone with a leg up in a rigged system: it’s good to have existential doubts about your privileges. But you should still, and more importantly, you can still do the right thing.