Maybe Tomorrow?

Norris the alligator is optimism personified: he's so upbeat that a cloud of fluttering butterflies surrounds him wherever he goes. Elba, a pink hippo, couldn't be more different: she spends her days sitting on a big black block. ("Is it fun?" asks Norris. "Not really. No," Elba replies.) With Norris's gentle prodding and willingness to befriend her as she is, Elba reveals that she is mourning the loss of her dear friend, Little Bird ("She taught me to sing. We were hardly ever apart"), and the box gradually shrinks--not disappearing altogether, but growing small enough for Elba to move through the world again, in the company of her new friend. Agell doesn't make the friendship a teachable moment for irrepressible Norris. He seems to instinctively know how to help his new pal without encroaching on her emotional boundaries; his patient demeanor and her quiet emergence become the story's narrative. Ramirez's sunny digitized watercolors echo this hopeful mood with a lightness and energy. Ages 4-8. Author's agent: Edite Kroll, Edite Kroll Literary Agency. (Mar.)

Copyright 2018 Publishers Weekly, LLC Used with permission.

K-Gr 2--Elba, a pink hippopotamus, is weighed down by a heavy black block. Representing depression, anxiety, or sadness, the block is physically tethered to Elba, and greatly limits what she can do. Enter Norris, an alligator so cheerful that he dances everywhere he goes, "even uphill," surrounded by bevy of butterflies. Norris kindly but persistently encourages Elba to join him in various activities. Slowly, patiently, he cajoles Elba to try a few new things, always in a way that is comfortable for her. When it is raining, Norris joins Elba sitting on her block, and they quietly have tea. When Norris wants to go to the beach, he and the butterflies help Elba move the block. As they spend more time together, Elba eventually tells Norris about her friend, Little Bird, who is gone. Nonspecific about Little Bird's whereabouts, the painfulness of loss is a emotion that many children will recognize. Norris's concern for Elba does not erase her pain, but helps her manage it a little better. Watercolor, charcoal, graphite, and a combination of traditional and digital brushes are used to create appealing illustrations that acknowledge Elba's sadness while still offering hope that the world can be beautiful place. VERDICT This sensitive story will be valuable to adults helping children recognize and understand grief; an excellent purchase.--Lucinda Snyder Whitehurst, St. Christopher's School, Richmond

Copyright 2019 School Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

Praise for Maybe Tomorrow?:

[Offers] hope that the world can be beautiful place...an excellent purchase. —School Library Journal

Demonstrate[s] the power of patience, listening, and simply showing up when loved ones are navigating difficult emotions. Ramírez González's illustrations... utilize bright, textured colors, simple rounded shapes, and subtle yet eloquent facial expressions to sweetly emphasize the characters' emotional journey. A poignant exploration of depression, grief, and friendship. —Kirkus Reviews

Norris the alligator is optimism personified... Elba, a pink hippo, couldn't be more different...With Norris's gentle prodding and willingness to befriend her as she is, Elba reveals that she is mourning the loss of her dear friend, Little Bird...Norris seems to instinctively know how to help his new pal without encroaching on her emotional boundaries; his patient demeanor and her quiet emergence become the story's narrative. Ramírez González's sunny digitized watercolors echo this hopeful mood with a lightness and energy. —Publishers Weekly