A Big Bed for Little Snow

This companion to A Big Mooncake for Little Star, for which Lin won a Caldecott Honor, stars a boy, Little Snow. As his mother fills his puffy, gray-blue bed with feathers at winter’s start, she reminds him that “this bed is for sleeping, not jumping.” Naturally, the minute she leaves (“Little Snow listened to Mommy’s footsteps fade away”) and anytime she is absent, the child leaps onto his cloudlike bunk. When he does, “Tiny feathers squeezed out of his bed and fluttered down.” After a season’s worth of jumping, Little Snow springs so high and lands so hard on the bed that it tears, spilling the feathers. The next spread shows where all those feathers end up; though it’s not too hard to guess where that might be, the revelation charms (and reveals a glimpse of Little Snow’s predecessor). Classically drafted paintings of the child leaping and bouncing with his stuffed dachshund convey the joy of release and weightlessness. Lin skillfully uses the folded and creased snowflake shapes of the mother and child’s matching pajamas to convey the contours of their bodies underneath, giving their clothes a wonderfully otherworldly look. A beguiling contemporary origin story. Ages 4–8. [em]Agent: Rebecca Sherman, Writers House. (Oct.) [/em]