Joy

Fern’s elderly Nanna doesn’t smile anymore. She’s listless and withdrawn, and her once-cheery home now feels gray and dusty. Mom doesn’t know what’s wrong: “It’s like the joy has gone out of her life,” she tells Fern. Once Fern understands what “joy” means (“Like when we all dance after dinner?”), she determines to capture some at the local park—a puppy’s bounce in a box, a baby’s giggles in a can, sun sparkles in a saucepan—and take it all to her grandmother. But joy isn’t quite so easily given, or is it? While Nanna does perk up considerably at the end, her initial condition seems so serious that the speedy transformation may leave readers wondering what sent her into a tailspin in the first place. But newcomer Follath’s sweet, heart-on-her-sleeve pictures, Fern’s sense of agency, and the story’s core conceit—that you can’t package joy—may strike a chord with readers. Ages 3–6. [em](Aug.) [/em]