PreS-Gr 2 —Light and memory, past and present, darkness and forgetfulness—these are just a few of the themes Say explores in a book that takes on dementia through the loving eyes of a grandson visiting his grandmother. In sunshine-filled watercolors that help readers navigate the misunderstandings as Andy does, a story unfolds; his grandmother mistakes him for a former student, Willie, from a long-ago lesson when she was a much younger teacher, Miss Irwin. She saved the small hummingbird nest Willie made for her back then and reminds him of how the class put a feeder in a plum tree. Although Andy slips up, and calls her "Grandma," she corrects him gently, and he adapts to her time and place, with a compassion that is astounding and yet utterly childlike. That Say conveys this in mere pages, with very few words, is simply more evidence of his mastery of form; the scenes of past and present, from gray-haired woman to a younger teacher, keep readers grounded in time, and when Andy promises himself to make a nest, they will feel his resolve as well as his honoring of his relative, no matter where her memories dwell. VERDICT Not only a lyrical look at teaching and life lessons, this is an essential book for SEL shelves, as well as for collections on Asian-American family life, and dementia.—Kimberly Olson Fakih

In Say's latest sparely told but emotionally intense gem, a small keepsake serves as talisman between a visiting child and his grandmother, who has been forgetting things. Andy's grandma calls him by a different name at first, even telling him that she's not his grandma but his teacher. Then the tiny nest she lifts out of a storage box touches off a rush of fragmentary reminiscences about once leading her class outside to hang a hummingbird feeder. In the soft-focus art, quiet domestic scenes give way to flashbacks in which the child and the gray-haired elder are transformed into younger versions of themselves, until two wordless tableaux add a silent beat that brings her effort to "remember, yes remember . . ." back to the present and she takes his hand, calling him "Andy" again. Readers who have elder relatives of their own with failing memories may draw comfort from this intimate episode, which was created, the author writes, in tribute to his own daughter's "luminous" kindergarten teacher.

Remembering what his parents have told him about Grandma, second grader Andy patiently goes along when she calls him by the wrong name, confusing him for a student she'd taught long ago. "I had you in kindergarten...I am Miss Irwin." He asks her ("Grandma...I mean, Miss Irwin?") about a small nest he finds in a box in her house. She reminds "Willie" how he used to watch birds through the classroom window, and how she set up a hummingbird feeder in the plum tree outside; in turn, on the last day of school he gave her a tiny bird's nest he had made. When she says, "Wouldn't it be lovely to make nectar again?" her grandson suggests they put up a bird feeder. Facing pages contain close-up portraits of Andy on one side, saying, "It'll be fun to feed the hummingbirds together, Gran," and a beaming Grandma on the other, replying, "Nothing would make me happier, Andy." Just as Miss Irwin years before had forged a connection with quiet, bird-loving Willie, Andy finds a way to reach his beloved grandmother. Say illustrates his gentle, loving story with softly sun-dappled, colorful oil paintings that range from hazy to clear, depending on the clarity of Grandma's mind and memory. A brief but heartfelt author's note explains the story's origins. Jennifer M. Brabander

Fragile memories can be strengthened through family and love.An Asian-presenting young boy with tan skin, dark hair, and a bright green backpack visits his lighter-skinned grandmother only to discover that she does not recognize him as her grandson Andy. Instead, she believes he is Willie, a boy she taught in kindergarten years back, who once gave her a homemade bird's nest. Andy gently enters the memory with his grandmother, calling her Miss Irwin instead, and learns about the events of that day, when Miss Irwin brought her class to a plum tree in the yard outside the school to see a hummingbird sip nectar from a feeder in the tree. Grandma's memory again falters in recalling the recipe for hummingbird nectar, but Andy is there to prompt her and sustain the story. Grandma finds her way through the foggy reminiscence, and the two spend a pleasant afternoon, making plans to construct a new feeder. Say's muted palette features pastel hues and layered brush strokes that soften and lend a dreamlike quality to the illustrations. Andy's and Grandma's faces are often featureless or even blurred, making this experience-of seeing an older relative deal with memory decline-feel universal. The quiet and straightforward text, while not particularly eventful, nevertheless may spark important questions among children. An author's note provides additional background. (This book was reviewed digitally.)A sensitively portrayed snapshot of an all-too-common family experience. (Picture book. 5-7)

When Andy, an East Asian–presenting second grader, visits his grandmother, she calls him not his own name, but another: “Willie.” Though the following pages see her mixing the past and present, her earlier days as a kindergarten teacher remain clear in her mind. Her grandson offers a reminder (“I’m Andy, Grandma”), but quickly realizes that Grandma requires care, not correction. He smoothly switches to “Miss Irwin,” and asks about a plain white box he’s found on her shelf. In oil paint on cardboard, hazy, dreamlike classroom scenes accompany Miss Irwin’s recollection of Willie, a young bird-lover in the making; the box contains a special present that Willie once crafted for Miss Irwin. In her memory, the class, portrayed with varying skin tones, puts up a hummingbird feeder and makes nectar for it, using a recipe that brings Grandma back to the present. In text and image that meander between then and now, Say (Grandfather’s Journey) highlights Andy’s ready ability to see things from his grandmother’s point of view, and to show compassion and patience when her memory is no longer dependable. An introductory author’s note explains the story’s origins. Ages 4–8. (Apr.)