Starred Review Some children have security blankets, some have teddy bears, others have invisible friends. Lubna has Pebble. It is telling that this child would rely on so ordinary and ubiquitous an object for comfort: she has nothing else. Before we can wonder why a little girl's best friend is a pebble, we learn that she found it when she and her father arrived in a World of Tents. Night skies make silhouettes of the hulls of boats that dwarf tiny Lubna on the beach from where she and her father make their way to their new tent home. The fact that they are refugees might be lost on the youngest readers as this significant fact is only subtly conveyed in the text. But a quiet sense of loss pervades the story and is amplified when another small child, Amir, arrives. Close-up renderings of Lubna's face, her father's strong arms, and Amir's drooped shoulders convey the weight of trauma the children carry. Yet there is also a tenderness and optimism in their playful delight and shared love of Pebble. A warm palette of indigo and ocher, with occasional blasts of glowing orange and red, mirrors the cocoon of security that the children build for each other. Lubna and Pebble is a timely story of displacement, loss, friendship, and kindness iversal messages with timeless appeal.

Lubna navigates the challenges of being a refugee: keeping happy—or rather, surviving—and passing the courage on. She arrives with her dad as refugees to their temporary home, "a World of Tents," with no visible toys and perhaps nothing at all. Lubna latches onto a pebble she finds on the beach after their crowded boat arrives at the shore. After this find, she "clutched Daddy's hand and gripped her pebble. Somehow, she knew they'd keep her safe." The larger-than-life, almost dreamy illustrations show readers what Lubna sees and feels, and the rawness of both text and images penetrates the heart. Lubna and Pebble become best friends, and she and her lovingly understanding father even create a nice home for it to face the cold winter, a shoebox with a tea towel. Then she meets another friend, Amir, a little boy who is alone. "This is my best friend, Pebble," Lubna says. Amir smiles, and together they play under the stars, the illustrations taking on jewel tones that contrast their imaginary play with the drabness of the refugee camp. When Lubna hears the happy news about resettlement to a better place, she is first happy, then sad about leaving Amir behind. She makes a hard and selfless decision that night, to share her treasure with her young friend who needs to hang on. Lubna, her father, and Amir have olive skin and dark hair; their circumstances hint at Syrian origins, but no country is named.A true celebration of the endless creativity and resilience of children. (Picture book. 5-12)

Lubna befriends a pebble when she and her father arrive at a refugee settlement, telling it about her family, the war, and her prior home. When Daddy finds them a new home, Lubna gives Pebble to newcomer Amir. Meddour's short, simple sentences pack a punch; the cool-palette illustrations, with their frequent use of curved lines, offer a sense of security. This tender story honors the emotional resilience of young people.

Lubna navigates the challenges of being a refugee: keeping happy—or rather, surviving—and passing the courage on. She arrives with her dad as refugees to their temporary home, "a World of Tents," with no visible toys and perhaps nothing at all. Lubna latches onto a pebble she finds on the beach after their crowded boat arrives at the shore. After this find, she "clutched Daddy's hand and gripped her pebble. Somehow, she knew they'd keep her safe." The larger-than-life, almost dreamy illustrations show readers what Lubna sees and feels, and the rawness of both text and images penetrates the heart. Lubna and Pebble become best friends, and she and her lovingly understanding father even create a nice home for it to face the cold winter, a shoebox with a tea towel. Then she meets another friend, Amir, a little boy who is alone. "This is my best friend, Pebble," Lubna says. Amir smiles, and together they play under the stars, the illustrations taking on jewel tones that contrast their imaginary play with the drabness of the refugee camp. When Lubna hears the happy news about resettlement to a better place, she is first happy, then sad about leaving Amir behind. She makes a hard and selfless decision that night, to share her treasure with her young friend who needs to hang on. Lubna, her father, and Amir have olive skin and dark hair; their circumstances hint at Syrian origins, but no country is named.A true celebration of the endless creativity and resilience of children. (Picture book. 5-12)

Lubna and her father have come ashore in a new country, where they-re housed in a tent city. Lubna-s best friend is a pebble she picked up on the beach, -shiny and smooth and gray,- made cheerier by the happy face she draws on it with a marker: -Lubna told Pebble everything. About her brothers. About home. About the war.- After a small boy named Amir arrives, Lubna and Pebble befriend him. Then Lubna-s father announces that they-re leaving for a new home, and Amir despairs. Following a sleepless night, the girl knows what she must to do to comfort him. Spacious, soaring spreads by Egnéus (Raven Child and the Snow-Witch) add flashes of imaginative escape to the poignant story by Meddour (The Glump and the Peeble). He shows the action from Lubna-s point of view, rendering interactions between her and Pebble in intimate close-ups, while Lubna-s father and other adults tower protectively above them. In a particularly inventive touch, Amir-s shadow appears as a pomegranate tree; when he receives Lubna-s gift, it bursts into color in a magical expression of gratitude. The story addresses a difficult subject but stays focused on hope. Ages 4-8. (Mar.)