“Tender, comforting, and complex.” —Kirkus Reviews (starred review) “Drawn with exquisite precision and quiet dashes of humor.” —Publishers Weekly (starred review) “A lovely, ruminative selection.” —School Library Journal (starred review) “A blueprint for mindfulness and gratitude for the homes in which we…live.” —The New York Times Book Review Deborah Freedman’s masterful new picture book is at once an introduction to the pieces of a house, a cozy story to share and explore, and a dreamy meditation on the magic of our homes and our world. Before there was this house, there were stones, and mud, and a colossal oak tree— three hugs around and as high as the blue. What was your home, once? This poetically simple, thought-provoking, and gorgeously illustrated book invites readers to think about where things come from and what nature provides.

A New York Times Best Illustrated book! A Boston Globe Best Children's Book of 2018 “Accompanied by Lane's evocative art that suggests layers of history, Fogliano's story turns this childhood scenario into a radiant poem about the mysteries of other people and the wonderfulness of home.” —New York Times Deep in the woods is a house just a house that once was but now isn’t a home. Who lived in that house? Who walked down its hallways? Why did they leave it, and where did they go? Two children set off to find the answers by piecing together clues found, books left behind, forgotten photos, and discarded toys, creating their own vision of those who came before, in this deeply moving tale of imagination by Ezra Jack Keats Award–winning author Julie Fogliano and Caldecott Award–winning illustrator Lane Smith.

Asks readers to think about ways in which the natural world has provided for them, by exploring all the different elements of a house and where each came from, once.

"A 2010 E.B. White Read-Aloud Honor Award recipient, Denise Doyen's rollicking, rhyming tale with moody, evocative illustrations by award-winner Barry Moser is sure to please children AND adults."

Disappearing statues, missing protestors, inexplicable deaths--how does a writer account for Tehran's shifting vanishing points?

A boy learns that nature is full of stories to tell when he finds and follows a mouse's tracks in a wintery wood. Milo wants a story, but his mom is too busy to entertain him. Instead, she encourages him to go out and play in the snow. At first, Milo is disappointed - he doesn't want to play outside, he wants a story. But when he starts to follow a trail of mouse-prints, he discovers signs of activity all around, prompting him to ask, "What happened here?" Before long, he's using his imagination -- depicted in lush wordless spreads that capture the vividness of Milo's fantasies -- to fill in the gaps. By the time Milo comes home, he's the one with stories to tell. A must have for the winter season, Liza Woodruff's Once Upon a Winter Day is a fun read-aloud that shares details about animal behavior from a child's perspective.

With an introduction by Eimear McBride A devastatingly powerful, moving and uplifting memoir - now a classic of its genre - that inspired others to tell their own true life stories. When our stepfather staggered home reeking of whisky, ceramic hit the wall. We got used to the smash and the next-day stain, but eventually the wallpaper began to fade . . . For Andrea Ashworth, home is not a place of comfort and solace, but of violence and fear. Her father died when she was five, leaving her close-knit, loving family to battle with poverty, abuse and the long shadow of depression. But from the ashes of 1970s Manchester and the hardships of her coming-of-age in the late 1980s, Andrea finds the courage to rise . . . Written with eye-opening honesty, rare beauty and intense power, Once in a House on Fire is a ground-breaking memoir, endearing in its humour and compassion, and life-affirming in its portrait of terrible circumstances triumphantly overcome.

A mind-bendingly clever farmyard romp In this deceptively simple picture book, author-illustrator Deborah Freedman has created an irresistible character that springs to life and wreaks havoc in a farmyard with a pot of blue paint. The innocent chicken just wants to help, but things get worse and worse - and bluer and bluer - the more she tries. Playing with colors and perspective, and using minimal text, this richly layered story reveals new things to see and laugh about with each reading.

What would you wish for? This middle-grade novel exploring what it means to become a blended family is perfect for fans of Rebecca Stead's The List of Things That Will Not Change. 12-year-old Winnie feels stuck. She's alone in a new town with a mom who doesn't seem to notice how miserable Winnie's new stepbrother and stepfather make her. One night, when Winnie makes a hasty wish, she nearly gets sideswiped by an odd bird, leading her to a strange oak tree with even stranger glowing leaves. Investigating the tree, Winnie discovers a nest of golden eggs with wishes inscribed on the shells. After Winnie accidentally breaks two of the eggs, the wishes come true. Winnie sneaks back to the tree to try to grant her own wishes. But when she realizes the wishes are coming true in unexpected and terrible ways, Winnie must find a way to fix everything. . . . .

Duane Michals (born 1932) was seventy when, soon after the death of his mother, he returned to his native Pittsburgh to revisit the house in which he was born and brought up. Its deteriorated state proved a poignant focus for his memories, prompting reveries on mortality and the succession of generations that found form as a sequence of photographs and poetic texts. In The House I Once Called Home, the interaction of words and images provides a sensitive and moving account of one man's journey through life. Michals creates a highly affecting layering of time by superimposing new photographs onto much older images taken in the same location during his earlier life there. Michals is one of America's most consistently individual and original voices in photography. He rejected the documentary emphasis of much of the work that preceded him, instead using the camera to explore the workings of the mind. Michals sought to overcome what he deemed to be the limitations of the single photographic image, both by writing directly onto his prints and by creating narrative sequences of images; these innovative techniques proved immensely influential. Powerfully intimate in its focus, The House I Once Called Home demonstrates conclusively the possibility of exposing universal truths through the most personal events. It is a work to which every reader will be able to relate through the filter of his or her own experience, and which will undoubtedly accrue new meanings as we ourselves return to it at different stages in our lives.