A Sweet Passover (Abrams, March), written by Lesléa Newman (of Heather Has Two Mommies fame) and illustrated by David Slonim, finds young Miriam celebrating Passover with her extended family. Though she loves matzo—topped with everything from butter and cream cheese to cottage cheese and tuna salad—by the end of the eight-day matzo-thon, she’s “sick, sick, sick” of it. Grandpa brings her back into the fold with his special matzo brei (he calls it “Passover French toast”; a stretch, IMHO). A kid-friendly recipe is included for those who, like Miriam, are feeling a little matzo’ed out.

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In Sunday Love, written and illustrated by Alison Paul, sound effects and red, black, and white illustrations chronicle Bruno the Burglar’s Valentine’s Day escape from the Big House. Much of the appeal lies in the cinematic, Charlie Chaplinesque action, complete with slapstick escapades, buffoonish gendarmes, and a reunion with a true love—a sundae love, that is. 5–8 years. (Houghton)

Other forest animals spurn the friendly overtures of porcupine Mr. Prickles, protagonist of Kara LaReau’s Mr. Prickles:  A Quill-Fated Love Story. Mr. Prickles knows he’s “cute…[and] cuddly…on the inside,” but grows bitter in rejection—and then  Miss Pointypants, a female porcupine, moves in next door.  Pun-filled text shines a sympathetic light on lonely Mr. Prickles, and Scott Magoon’s playful (and cute and cuddly) illustrations bring out the best in the spiky hero. 4–8 years. (Porter/Roaring Brook)

Nancy Tafuri’s All Kinds of Kisses opens with a panoramic, early-morning view of a farm, where Rooster stands ready to rouse the creatures. In bucolic illustrations, the animals and their young wake and go about their daily routines. Accompanying text describes the type of kisses each baby animal loves—“Little Calf loves Mooo kisses…Little Kid loves Maaa kisses.” Finally, inside the farmhouse, a (human) mother gives her little one a kiss goodnight. 3–6 years. (Little, Brown)

Unlike that self-satisfied Guess How Much I Love You bunny, the narrator of Emily Jenkins’s Love You When You Whine is a parent whose claim of unconditional love has some grit. Rendered in Sergio Ruzzier’s comical, understated watercolors, a resigned mother cat lists numerous scenarios in which her impish daughter is less than well-behaved but, of course, still loved. 5–8 years. (Farrar/Foster)

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In the box (and now Out of the Box) we found individually wrapped goodies like chocolate covered pretzels and blobs made of popcorn, caramel, and other stuff my dentist would hate. There were just enough to go around our small office but we weren’t sure what was inside some of them. Luckily, small labels on the back made it all clear.

Here’s a close-up of the description for that ambiguous candy on the left:

This reminds me of the pitfalls of using a thesaurus to help write book reviews. I don’t know about you, but if I’m not careful it can lead me down a slippery slope to purple prose. I can’t be sure that’s what happened here — it might just be a translation issue — but I picture someone at Sweet Jubilee Gourmet getting tired of the word “coated” and deciding to kick it up a notch the only way a writer can.

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When my oldest child, Rory, was a toddler, I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him about Santa. “You wouldn’t rob him of that!” my mother scolded. Rob him of what, I thought, but I knew she meant the wonder of it all, the belief that a magical, benevolent being would grant your wishes. In the end I caved and told Rory the big merry lie; he ate it up like so much gingerbread.

My childhood self scoffed at the idea of flying reindeer, but my son gloried in the magic of beasts that could fly without wings. As a girl I’d noted that even if Santa were to come down our chimney, it was blocked by a woodstove; Rory didn’t care that we had no chimney and said Santa would probably come in through the heating vents. I was charmed by his imaginative openness and fed into it, even as I felt a twinge of guilt about lying to my kid. “It’s not lying,” my mother insisted. “It’s about including him in the story.”

Picture books played a big part in perpetuating the Santa myth in Rory’s life, and we soon amassed a broad library of stories to indulge his fascination. After just a few listens, he flawlessly imitated the British accent of the readers of our audiobook version of Bruce Whatley’s The Night Before Christmas, and he was baffled by the ending of The Polar Express. “Why can’t his sister hear the bell anymore?” he demanded. “She stopped believing in Santa Claus,” I told him, “but the boy kept believing.” “Me too,” said Rory emphatically. “I will always believe.”

Rory made good on this promise well into elementary school. He doggedly resisted peer pressure until one autumnal night. “Mom-Mom, is Santa real or do you and Mama put the presents under the tree?” It was the moment I’d dreaded. “Why do you ask?” I dodged carefully. “The other kids say I’m a loser for believing still. Just tell me the truth. I can handle it.” I took a deep breath. “OK, Rory, Mama and I do put the presents under the tree, but Santa — ” “All of them?” he interrupted and burst into tears. No, not tears — heaving, racking sobs. I tried to channel some inner “yes, Virginia” muse and explained that it’s the spirit of Santa that we hold onto, the joy of giving, the celebration of childhood…but Rory would have none of it. He whispered, “It’s like I know the words to the song, but the tune has slipped away.” A knife to the heart, I tell you! But then he said, “We can’t tell Emilia. She still believes.”

Yes, two-year-old Emilia did believe in Santa, since we had to include her in the story that her brother had loved so well. However, she did not adore Santa; she was terrified of him. Just a month or so earlier, Emilia’s toddlerhood fascination with babies had led to an attendant love of trains when I read her New Baby Train, Marla Frazee’s picture book version of the Woody Guthrie song. She firmly associated babies and trains from then on, doggedly looking for infants in any book about a little engine; this included The Polar Express. Seeing no babies, Emilia fixated on the jolly old elf — and was struck with horror.

It took me a while to figure out why Emilia was suddenly refusing to go to bed. Finally, after much prompting, she explained, “If I go to sleep Santa will come and Santa is scary!” Emilia had no sense of the passage of time, so telling her that “in a few weeks” Santa would come to her house meant that he could come any minute. She was, after all, the same child who was frightened by masks, clowns, and the potato mascot who ran around our town fair each fall lauding the benefits of fruits and vegetables. It made perfect sense that she would be terrified at the prospect of a big, bearded man prowling around while everyone was asleep. I told her that Santa would leave presents in the garage that year and staged a phone call to the North Pole to tell him not to enter our house.

When, in the space of one year, baby Caroline (now five), Natayja (now thirteen), and Stevie (now six) joined our family, we half-heartedly went along perpetuating the myth, with the thought that if Natayja and Stevie had any belief in Santa, it wouldn’t be fair to say, “Guess what? In our family he doesn’t exist. Happy adoption day!” And, just a few days after Natayja, nearly eight, came home to our family, I curled up on the couch with her to read Christmas books. “Which one do you want me to read?” I asked. “That one,” she said, pointing to Trina Schart Hyman’s illustrated edition of Dylan Thomas’s A Child’s Christmas in Wales. I wasn’t sure she’d have the attention span for the long text, but I started reading, “One Christmas was so much like another…” and we read the book straight through. This longer story allowed Natayja the uninterrupted time she needed to let her body sink into closeness with mine. Just as the mistletoe hanging in our dining room gave her an excuse to open herself up to kisses, shared reading of this book afforded her the time and space to cuddle. It didn’t matter how much she understood of the metaphor-rich language, or that Thomas’s Christmas memories were completely different from her own, or that in her experience of moving from family to family, one Christmas was so unlike another. What mattered was the sound of my voice reading to her, the images before her eyes as she pointed to them and said: “Look. It’s snowing,” or “Firefighters,” or “What’s that?”

When we reached the end she asked, “Can we read another one?” It was the first time she’d asked me for anything. We read for more than two hours on that couch, moving from eccentric aunts and candy cigarettes to a train traveling to the North Pole, and yes, to flying reindeer and good old Santa Claus. She delighted in these stories and later in visiting Santa at a local park, where she shyly told him what she wanted him to bring for her and her brothers and sisters and her two new moms.

I’m not sure when or how Natayja discovered that Santa is a story rather than a real person. She’s an ideal big sister, protective and kind, and she has played along every year for the benefit of her younger siblings. Stevie still believes in Santa Claus, but he can’t hold a Christmas candle to Caroline’s devotion, which seems to have surpassed even Rory’s belief. Caroline wants to read Christmas books all year long, and I indulge her in this, particularly in her favorite one, another Marla Frazee title, Santa Claus: The World’s Number One Toy Expert. “I just love his little underwears!” she says mischievously every time we read it and she beholds Santa romping around in his crazy Frazee boxers. But it’s not just Santa’s fashion sense that appeals to her, it’s his power. She regards St. Nick with what seems like an emphasis on his sainthood and worships him, perhaps filling some spiritual void born of growing up in our non-churchgoing household. Once, when she was being bossed around by her siblings, I said, “Ignore them. They’re not in charge of the world.” Without missing a beat she responded, “You’re right. Santa is.”

It seems that Santa, Mrs. Claus, and Rudolph form Caroline’s personal holy trinity as surely as the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost formed mine when I was a devout Catholic girl who said her rosary every night, praying to be as good as Mary and delighting in taking part in my church’s Christmas pageant. If I allow my lapsed Catholic self to surface, I can admit to a personal preference for nativity stories over Santa ones, in part because they tie me to a heritage of faith that in other ways has slipped away from me. I grew up on Tomie dePaola’s pop-up book The First Christmas, and it, along with Margaret Wise Brown and Floyd Cooper’s A Child Is Born, are favorites in my family’s library today. The nativity book we turn to most often, however, is Julie Vivas’s The Nativity. Vivas’s art makes the text — straight from the King James Bible — accessible and wondrously human for her audience. She said of working on this book, “I’ve been pregnant. I couldn’t do a pretty Christmas book.”

Amen to that! Vivas’s pictures of a very pregnant Mary mounting and then riding on a donkey drive this point home with great humor and a subtle feminist panache. Reading this book when Rory was three, in preparation for attending Christmas Eve services with my mother, called for a certain amount of explanation of the text. Vivas’s angels wear work boots and have tattered, tie-dyed wings, and Mary, during the scene when the Archangel Gabriel comes to tell her that she will bear God’s child, is hanging the wash out on the line, oblivious to his descent. On the next spread Mary and Gabriel are seated at her kitchen table having their important conversation. The expression on Mary’s face is one of pure incredulity as she takes in the angel’s words: “Fear not Mary: for thou hast found favor with God. Thou shalt bring forth a son and call his name Jesus.” I paraphrased for Rory, “So here the angel is telling Mary that she is going to have a baby and Mary is really, really surprised about this news. Look at her — she’s like ‘Are you kidding!?’”

Rory loved this book. We read it dozens of times and brought it to the church so he could follow along with the lector. All was well until the “Fear not Mary” line resonated throughout the quiet sanctuary. Rory, taking this as his cue, called out in full voice, “And Mary was like, ARE YOU KIDDING?!” I gasped. But my mother whispered, “Oh Megan, don’t worry. Kids are what Christmas is all about,” and gave Rory a kiss on the top of his head.

When I think about the story of a long-awaited child born as a symbol of hope, my mother’s sentiment is something I want to celebrate in every season, but perhaps especially at Christmastime with all of its seemingly unavoidable family baggage and chaos. The holiday books I’ve shared with my kids hold more than just stories. They hold the memories of shared time together, and the conversations they’ve provoked have seen us navigating the emotions that come with being a family comprising people with different dispositions, hopes, and fears. I still question whether I made the right decision in telling my kids about Santa, and I am dreading the day Caroline confronts me about why the Polar Express hasn’t stopped at our house, or in some other way catches me in the big jolly lie. But I have reason to hope that she’ll come through it all OK based on how Rory’s feelings have evolved over time:

When Rory was twelve, he stayed up after his siblings went to bed to help stuff stockings and wrap presents. He was delighted by his new role and announced, “It’s even more fun to be Santa than to believe in him.” I looked at my son and recalled the night he wept over losing his belief in Santa Claus. Maybe he couldn’t hear a bell from the Polar Express, but it seemed that the tune that had slipped away from him was back. Joy to the world, indeed.

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PICTURE BOOKS
Suggested grade level listed with each entry.

The Story of Hanukkah by David A. Adler; illus. by Jill Weber (Holiday)
This accessible retelling of the Hanukkah story details the oppression of Jews following King Antiochus IV’s coronation and the Maccabees’ triumphant revolt, concluding with rebuilding of the temple — and the miracle that happened there. Grade level: K-3. 32 pages.

Hoppy Hanukkah! written by Linda Glaser, illustrated by Daniel Howarth (Whitman)
Readers learn Hanukkah rituals through the enthusiastic missteps of bunny siblings Violet and Simon. Grade level: Preschool. 32 pages.

The Best Hanukkah Ever written by Barbara Diamond Goldin, illustrated by Avi Katz (Cavendish)
After giving each other Hanukkah gifts they want for themselves, the Knoodles learn that one should keep the recipient in mind when giving presents. Grade level: K-3. 32 pages.

Harvest of Light written by Allison Ofanansky, photography by Eliyahu Alpern (Kar-Ben)
An Israeli girl describes her family’s olive harvest through the seasons, culminating with the family lighting the Hanukkah menorah with oil they have produced. Grade level: K-3. 32 pages.

Chanukah Lights by Michael J. Rosen; illus. by Robert Sabuda (Candlewick)
This satisfying pop-up shows places where menorahs have been lit around the globe and through the ages. Each brightly painted spread (with white pop-up elements) contains a cleverly hidden menorah. Grade level: K-3. 16 pages.

Hanukkah! written by Roni Schotter, illustrated by Marylin Hafner (Little, Brown)
A loving family celebrates Hanukkah with candle lighting, special foods, gifts, games, and songs. A brief explanation of the holiday’s history is appended. Grade level: Preschool. 32 pages.

The Hanukkah Hop! by Erica Silverman; illus. by Steven D’Amico (Simon)
Rachel’s parents host a “Hanukkah Hop”. The evening starts sedately, with Hanukkah story-telling and dreidel-spinning, but with the arrival of the Mazel-Tones klezmer band, the celebration ramps up. Grade level: Preschool. 32 pages.

Hanukkah Haiku written by Harriet Ziefert, illustrated by Karla Gudeon (Blue Apple)
Eight haiku, one for each night, describe Hanukkah traditions. Pages in graduated sizes turn to reveal one lit candle at a time. Grade level: K-3. 24 pages.

INTERMEDIATE FICTION
Suggested grade level for each entry: 4–6

Alexandra’s Scroll: The Story of the First Hanukkah written by Miriam Chaikin, illustrated by Stephen Fieser (Holt)
The Hanukkah story is folded into the tale of narrator Alexandra, a talented writer encouraged by her mother to document their lives in 165 B.C.E. Judea.

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The Story of Hanukkah
by David A. Adler; illus. by Jill Weber
Primary    Holiday    32 pp.
8/11    978-0-8234-2295-1    $14.95
Adler’s straightforward, accessible retelling of the Hanukkah story begins in Judea at the temple “on top of a mountain and called the House of God…inside was a ner tamid, a light that always burned.” The violence against and oppression of Jews following King Antiochus IV’s coronation is detailed, along with triumphant revolt by the Maccabees. The narrative concludes with rebuilding of the temple — and the great miracle that happened there — along with modern-day observances of events; a recipe for latkes and instructions for the dreidel game are appended. Acrylic illustrations richly accented with deep blues and luminous golds recall ancient friezes and ceramics. ELISSA GERSHOWITZ

When I Love You at Christmas
by David Bedford; illus. by Tamsin Ainslie
Preschool    Kane Miller    24 pp.
9/11    978-1-61067-039-5    $9.99
A little girl and her toy lamb prepare for Christmas — making cookies, decorating the tree, wrapping presents, singing in a pageant — while an unknown narrator showers her with love: “When you wrap your gifts / When you tie the bows / That’s when I love you.” The book’s small, square trim size; generous white space on well-composed double-page spreads; and cheerful illustrations full of eye-pleasing colors and patterns combine to make an attractive package for the youngest reader — and the final reveal of the narrator’s identity adds a fresh and funny spin, setting this one apart from the all-too-typical unconditional-love picture book. MARTHA V. PARRAVANO

Home for Christmas
by Jan Brett; illus. by the author
Preschool, Primary    Putnam    32 pp.
11/11    978-0-399-25653-0    $17.99    g
Rollo, a “wild” young troll, has not lost his tail yet because he refuses to behave or help out at home. Fed up with his family’s demands, he runs away and spends months living with owls, bears, otters, a lynx, and moose. Slowly he realizes he fits in best with his own family. Just in time for Christmas, Rollo returns from the tundra a changed troll, minus his tail and ready to lend a hand with his Mama, Papa, and Little Sister. Brett’s signature borders surrounding her detailed illustrations of Rollo’s journey enhance the story with images of his family back home doing their chores and missing him, while others highlight upcoming spreads. A visually appealing Scandinavian holiday folk story designed for repeat visits. CYNTHIA K. RITTER

A Bad Kitty Christmas
by Nick Bruel; illus. by the author
Preschool, Primary    Porter/Roaring Brook    40 pp.
10/11    978-1-59643-668-8    $15.99    g
In this parody of “The Night Before Christmas,” Bad Kitty escapes from her owners after ruining an entire alphabet’s worth of Christmas presents and decorations (“The eggnog was ended / The fruitcake was flung / The gifts were all gutted / The holly un-hung”). A kindly old lady takes in the lost and frightened feline. Her rescuer doesn’t have much, but she’s willing to share her home — and her holiday spirit — with Kitty. Once reunited with her family, Kitty returns the favor in a satisfying conclusion. Bruel slyly adapts the familiar poetic structure; Kitty’s over-the-top expressions make her bad behavior even funnier. KATIE BIRCHER

A Christmas Goodnight
by Nola Buck; illus. by Sarah Jane Wright
Preschool    Tegen/HarperCollins    24 pp.
10/11    978-0-06-166491-5    $12.99
Saying goodnight to all the participants in the Christmas story (“Goodnight to the baby in the hay. / Goodnight to the doves, coo coo. / Goodnight to the sleepy mother. / Goodnight to Joseph, too”) turns out to be the Christmas Eve practice of a little boy with his manger scene before he goes to bed. As the narrative migrates from the nativity to the boy’s snowy rural home, the creative twist in the plot naturally reveals itself. The soothing rhyming text and soft palette of the illustrations is ideal for bedtime read-alouds while also serving as a straightforward introduction to the important characters in the story of that first Christmas. CYNTHIA K. RITTER

Lighthouse Christmas
by Toni Buzzeo; illus. by Nancy Carpenter
Primary    Dial    32 pp.
10/11    978-0-8037-3053-3    $16.99    g
Frances and her little brother worry that Santa won’t be able to find them on their isolated Maine island (their father is the new lighthouse keeper). Storms have even prevented the supply boat from coming, so they’ll have no presents and nothing but beans for Christmas dinner. But when their father must venture out into a nor’easter and needs Frances’s help to keep the lighthouse lamp lit, she begins to accept her situation. The sudden arrival of a small plane dropping gifts and supplies, though based on historical fact, adds one too many elements to an overcrowded plot; but readers looking for a feel-good holiday story will find one here. Carpenter’s homey, old-fashioned illustrations, in the cool colors of a wintry island, are appropriately weathered and windblown. MARTHA V. PARRAVANO

 The Money We’ll Save
by Brock Cole; illus. by the author
Primary    Ferguson/Farrar    32 pp.
10/11    978-0-374-35011-6    $16.99    g
Cole’s blithe illustrations, comfortably crowded with his amusing, expressive characters, set this entertaining holiday story in nineteenth-century New York City. A tiny flat is no place for a live turkey, but when Pa brings one home to fatten up for Christmas (“Think of the money we’ll save!”), the family makes the best of it. Alfred, as they name the bird, proves to be a noisy, scowling glutton, the small tenement apartment now overflowing with “messed on” newspapers in Cole’s cheerfully disheveled-looking pictures. Just as everyone has had enough, Pa announces it’s time to visit the butcher. “We can’t eat Alfred!” shout the children, yet they’re eager to get rid of him. A brilliant solution satisfies everyone, including Alfred, and while the family has only oatmeal for Christmas dinner, Ma gives Pa a kiss, saying, “Ah, but think of the money we saved.” JENNIFER M. BRABANDER

The Littlest Evergreen
by Henry Cole; illus. by the author
Preschool, Primary    Tegen/HarperCollins    32 pp.
10/11    978-0-06-114619-0    $16.99
Raised on a hillside amongst its fellow pines, the littlest evergreen, Cole’s narrator, is dug out of the earth late one autumn by men searching for Christmas trees. They forgo using their chainsaw on it, believing it “too small to make much of tree,” but a young family purchases it and, after Christmas, replants the pine, which thrives. The tree’s small stature, once thought to be its greatest weakness, is what allows it to escape the fate of curbside pickup and to have a “long and beautiful life.” Through a clear, engaging text and lush yet lively illustrations, Cole celebrates embracing that which makes us unique in a narrative that also focuses on respecting nature. LAURA MARENGHI

Christmas Eve Good Night
by Doug Cushman; illus. by the author
Preschool, Primary    Holt    32 pp.
8/11    978-0-8050-6603-6    $12.99    g
As a girl holds a snow globe containing a miniature Santa’s workshop, the rhyming text asks how critters at the North Pole would say good night on Christmas Eve. A reindeer says “Jingle! Jingle!”; a toy robot says “Bzz! Clank!”; the elves say something that looks runic and vaguely Viking (have fun with that, readers-aloud); Santa calls out “Merry Christmas to all! / And to all a Good Night!” The book closes with the girl again, now sound asleep; when readers spot her pointy elf ears, they’ll turn right back to the beginning to see how Cushman’s clever, colorful illustrations disguised her as a human girl. JENNIFER M. BRABANDER

Strega Nona’s Gift
by Tomie dePaola; illus. by the author
Primary    Paulsen/Penguin    32 pp.
10/11    978-0-399-25649-3    $16.99
In a new picture book by Wilder Award winner dePaola marking the feast days of Italy, Strega Nona is busy cooking, as usual — and sorting out Big Anthony’s troubles, also as usual. (When he can’t resist the delectable treats Strega Nona prepared for the animals on the Eve of Epiphany, he misses out on her gift of a dream about wonderful food, but eventually he makes amends and even gets to be king of the feast.) From the Feast of San Nicola on December 6 to the Feast of Epiphany on January 6, Strega Nona’s Calabrian village celebrates the season. Glowing watercolors in warm Mediterranean colors capture both the details of each feast day and the humor of Big Anthony’s (very human) foibles. Community, piety, ritual, and food: Strega Nona and Tomie dePaola know exactly what Christmas is all about. MARTHA V. PARRAVANO

A Christmas Tree for Pyn
by Olivier Dunrea; illus. by the author
Preschool, Primary    Philomel    32 pp.
10/11    978-0-399-24506-0    $16.99
Little Pyn lives in a desolate cottage with her father, Oother, a gruff, unsentimental mountain man. Pyn wants a Christmas tree this year — the small family’s first — but Oother, with an “umphf,” replies, “No Christmas tree.” Determined Pyn sets out in a snowstorm to find the perfect tree and gets some surprising help from Oother. Eventually, Oother allows his daughter’s love to warm his tough exterior, and his holiday spirit is revealed. Dunrea’s simple pencil and gouache pictures depict the pair’s differences (both in size and demeanor) and, gradually, their quiet mutual affection. This heartfelt tale is as much about father-daughter bonding as it is about the power of Christmas to melt a cold heart. KATRINA HEDEEN

Jingle Bells: How the Holiday Classic Came to Be
by John Harris; illus. by Adam Gustavson
Primary    Peachtree    32 pp.
10/11    978-1-56145-590-4    $16.95
Based on a true story, Harris’s brisk text uses a liberal amount of invented conversation to embellish the tale of a northern-born songsmith living in 1850s Savannah, Georgia, and longing for a snowy winter. It’s a hot November, and John Lorn Pierpont, Unitarian choir director, is struggling to come up with a new Thanksgiving song for the annual concert when he suddenly thinks of the sound of jingling bells. Gustavson’s accomplished paintings, realistic yet folksy, reveal small dramas not in the text, and each face in the choir and congregation seems to hide an entire character study. An author’s note with photos at the end provides more information. LOLLY ROBINSON

A Very Babymouse Christmas
by Jennifer L. Holm; illus. by Matthew Holm
Primary, Intermediate    Random    93 pp.
9/11    Paper ed.  978-0-375-86779-8    $6.99
Library ed.  978-0-375-96779-5    $12.99
The must-have gift this Christmas? It’s a Whiz Bangtm, and Babymouse feels she simply cannot live without the latest electronic marvel: “It plays video games and movies, it texts, sees into the future, folds laundry, and does homework!” This graphic novel’s single-minded focus reflects Babymouse’s all-consuming obsession, a condition with which readers are likely to be familiar. Her holiday-classic-inspired, pink-hued daydreams allow Babymouse to switch off the mania for a while (though “the Sugarplum Whiz Bangstm” do make an appearance). The sentimental lesson delivered in the end — “Sometimes the best gift is one you didn’t even know you wanted, huh, Babymouse?” — is obvious, but one that fits the season and bears repeating. KITTY FLYNN

Listen to the Silent Night
by Dandi Daley Mackall; illus. by Steve Johnson and Lou Fancher
Preschool, Primary    Dutton    32 pp.
10/11    978-0-525-42276-1    $16.99    g
Employing the refrain “It was not such a silent night,” this narrative poem relates the nativity through its sounds: the flip, flap, flap of Joseph’s sandals as he and Mary enter Bethlehem; his rap, tap, tap at the door of the inn; the moo! moo! moo! of the stable’s inhabitants; the flut-flut-flutter of descending angels. Mackall’s carefully constructed verse emphasizes that while the first Christmas may not have been the “silent night” the old hymn would have us believe, it was a “miraculous” one. Johnson and Fancher’s peaceful illustrations eloquently capture the range of emotions from Mary’s weariness to the joy of Jesus’ birth. KATIE BIRCHER

Elmer’s Christmas
by David McKee; illus. by the author
Preschool, Primary    Andersen    32 pp.
9/11    978-0-7613-8088-7    $16.95
e-book ed.  978-0-7613-8090-0    $12.95
After a day of preparing for Christmas, Elmer the patchwork elephant and seven young elephants sneak away to spy on Papa Red. Papa Red arrives (complete with Santa hat and whiskers) and gathers up the gifts from under the tree. The young elephants are delighted to have seen him, and when they note that Papa Red took all the gifts, Elmer explains that “this is the season for giving.” McKee’s story sends a strong but friendly reminder of the importance of generosity and goodwill during the holiday season. The playful, vividly colored illustrations complement the book’s cheery tone. KAZIA BERKLEY-CRAMER

Chanukah Lights
by Michael J. Rosen; illus. by Robert Sabuda
Primary    Candlewick    16 pp.
9/11    978-0-7636-5533-4    $34.99
Starting in the temple two thousand years ago, this satisfying pop-up travels around the globe and through the ages (desert tent, kibbutz, tall ship, tenement) to show all the places where menorahs have been lit. On each spread, the background is brightly painted while the pop-up elements are white — except for a cleverly hidden representation of a lit menorah. Rosen’s brief text takes the reader from the first night of Hanukkah (two flames) to the last (all nine flames), ending with a modern city in which a menorah towers above all like art deco skyscrapers with gold triangles at the top. This is a satisfying and even uplifting experience that demands repeat viewings. LOLLY ROBINSON

The Carpenter’s Gift
by David Rubel; illus. by Jim LaMarche
Primary    Random    48 pp.
9/11    978-0-375-86922-8    $17.99    g
During the Great Depression, down-on-their-luck Henry and his father bring spruces into Manhattan to sell as Christmas trees; through some good fortune and a little Christmas magic, kindly construction workers they meet there build the impoverished family a new house. Henry never forgets the wonder of that day or the kindness of those strangers. As an old man, he’s given the opportunity to pay it forward: an enormous spruce tree that he planted all those decades before becomes the Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center, and its lumber is later used to build a similarly needy family a new home. Rubel’s story of compassion hits all the right holiday notes; LaMarche’s lush, warm illustrations of glowing Christmas trees and smiling, caring characters drive home the central message of charity. KATRINA HEDEEN

The Hanukkah Hop!
by Erica Silverman; illus. by Steven D’Amico
Preschool    Simon    32 pp.
10/11    978-1-4424-0604-9    $12.99
On the last night of Hanukkah, with all the candles lit, Rachel’s parents host “our first ever Hanukkah Hop!” Extended family and friends gather in the streamer-festooned, latke-perfumed living room. The evening starts sedately, with Hanukkah story-telling and dreidel-spinning. With the arrival of the Mazel-Tones klezmer band, the celebration ramps up: “Biddy-biddy bim-bom bim-bom bop. / Spin! Swing! Sway! / Dive! Jump! Pop! / The party’s going wild at the Hanukkah Hop!” Like the enthusiastic revelers, Silverman’s gleeful text has rhythm. D’Amico’s angular illustrations, with their circa-1950s flair, keep up the pace, as the partygoers overtake all available space in the living room and on the pages. Readers’ toes are sure to be tapping throughout this unabashedly joyful Hanukkah romp. ELISSA GERSHOWITZ

The Christmas Coat: Memories of My Sioux Childhood
by Virginia Driving Hawk Sneve; illus. by Ellen Beier
Primary    Holiday    32 pp.
8/11    978-0-8234-2134-3    $16.95
It’s a harsh winter in young Virginia’s Sioux village on the South Dakota prairie. Virginia longs for a new coat but knows she’ll have to make do with her too-short, too-thin one, at least until the boxes full of donated used clothing arrive from “Theast”; i.e., New England. As the Episcopal priest’s daughter, Virginia always gets last pick, and she can’t help feeling a pang when a flashy fur coat she covets goes to another girl. With its authentic portrait of a Sioux childhood and Christmas traditions (captured in watercolor and gouache illustrations) and its eventual happy ending (a final box arrives containing the beautiful red coat Virginia had dreamed of, a reward for her unselfishness), this is a quiet but affecting picture book. MARTHA V. PARRAVANO

The Perfect Christmas
by Eileen Spinelli; illus. by JoAnn Adinolfi
Primary    Ottaviano/Holt    32 pp.
10/11    978-0-8050-8702-4    $16.99    g
Abigail Archer (from The Perfect Thanksgiving) and her family do Christmas Martha Stewart-style. Holly bedecks the halls, elegant baked goods are tastefully presented, and the attractive relatives are refined and well mannered. Taking a less-manicured approach, the narrator’s family pulls out the old fake tree and the bargain bin decorations, Grandma over-bakes the cookies, and the loud pickup truck-driving relatives are not refined. The rhyming text isn’t always perfectly polished, either, but the jolly collage art ties it all together, depicting each family’s traditions with finesse. A Christmas snowfall brings both families outside “together / laughing and dancing / through the snow.” That’s the extent of the conflict, which might be a refreshing break from too much family-holiday togetherness. KITTY FLYNN

The Greatest Gift: The Story of the Other Wise Man
retold by Susan Summers; illus. by Jackie Morris
Primary    Barefoot    32 pp.
11/11    978-1-84686-578-7    $16.99    g
In this retelling of a fictional tale, a fourth wise man, Artaban, intends to travel with the three other magi to honor baby Jesus. But when Artaban stops to heal a man in need, he finds himself left behind. After years of helping the distressed during his travels, Artaban arrives in Jerusalem just as Jesus is about to be crucified. Artaban is faced with one final dilemma: try to free Jesus, or release a young girl from captivity. When Artaban frees the helpless girl, the spirit of Jesus thanks Artaban for repeatedly helping His children over the years. The appropriately formal language is accompanied by rich, saturated watercolors that portray Middle Eastern characters and scenery during biblical times. This heartwarming story will remind readers that the holiday season is about giving to those less fortunate. LAUREN KIM

One Starry Night
by Lauren Thompson; illus. by Jonathan Bean
Preschool, Primary    McElderry/Simon    32 pp.
10/11    978-0-689-82851-5    $16.99
“One starry night / a sheep watched over her lamb / I am here.” In Thompson’s poetic, reverent text, two voices tell of the night Jesus was born. Eight animal parents watch over their young; then all gather under the stars with Mary and Joseph to welcome the baby Jesus: “and the world was filled with love / God’s will be done / Amen.” This peaceful ode to parental love is just right for bedtime reading. Bean’s digitally colored pencil illustrations portray the calm nighttime scenes in black, beige, dark gray-blue, and a sprinkling of white. The gentle words are beautifully matched by the strikingly composed art; both are infused with meaning and are powerful in their simplicity. KITTY FLYNN

Franklin and Winston: A Christmas That Changed the World
by Douglas Wood; illus. by Barry Moser
Primary, Intermediate    Candlewick    40 pp.
9/11    978-0-7636-3383-7    $16.99
In December 1941 British Prime Minister Winston Churchill traveled to the United States and spent the holidays with President Franklin Roosevelt at the White House. During his visit, they formed an alliance to fight the Axis Powers and crafted a charter for the United Nations. Wood’s somewhat idealized snapshot of this significant moment in history provides interested readers a glimpse into the lives of these two great men and their Christmas meeting, along with a few humorous anecdotes that add levity to an otherwise solemn text. Moser based his impressive watercolor paintings, a mix of full pages and vignettes, on photographs from the period. His images skillfully capture the likenesses of these iconic figures and the importance of their meeting for the future of the world. CYNTHIA K. RITTER

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My six- and eleven-year-old daughters had no interest in following the rambling story, thank heavens, because neither did I. What we were eager to get at were the instructions for drawing chubby Little Man and the various creatures and objects he sees, outside and at the Halloween Costume Ball. We laid the book on a table (the flexi-bound book stays open nicely), and while my older daughter and I were all about using the directions (some are trickier than others), my first grader just went ahead and drew the animals, using her sister’s pictures for inspiration.

Jack-o’-lanterns, candy, bats, and owls are all here, plus lots of cute woodland critters. An index makes it easy to look up directions for each item—a good idea, as I imagine we’ll visit this book again. While I doubt the book’s recipe for Little Man’s favorite dish, escargot, will have kids eagerly donning aprons, it might appeal to adult readers, who also might be interested in drawing some of the odd, not-so-Halloweeny items. (Anyone care to draw a grater grating some lemon zest?)

Get your Halloween on, folks, and get drawing.

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You may want to listen before overindulging in Valentine’s chocolate, though, as the story brings new meaning to the phrase “eat your heart out.”

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Dog food, frisbees, bubbles from a jar… what do these have in common? If you ask Tucker, a small blue-collared dog from Leslie McGuirk’s latest board book, Tucker’s Valentine, he will tell you that this short list comprises just some of what he loves most in the world. Tucker’s simple tastes are challenged by a spotted, quiver-wielding Cupid with grander plans for his fellow four-legged friend, resulting in an exhaustive chase to impress some Valentine’s Day spirit on the young pup. With very simple artwork and text, this easy read presents a straightforward case for life and love in one’s own way. Apart from gender-role stereotypes displayed by female character Cupcake (her love is motivated by the idea of procreating with Tucker), this book makes a sweet addition to the Valentine’s Day market.

Monica Sheehan’s Love is You and Me expresses “What Love is” between a dog and a mouse. I can’t help but feel this picture book is geared more toward the rom-com audience of love-struck adults celebrating Valentine’s Day, rather than young children. Considering the situations in which our characters find themselves — beach vacations alone, car rides, long distance telephone conversations — I find myself picturing grown-up female readers holding a box of chocolates, with a ratty copy of Eat, Pray, Love by their bedsides. (My suspicion is only reinforced with an “Eat, Play, Love” reference in the illustrations.) In spite of its mixed-audience approach, one (young or old) can’t help but feel a Valentine’s tug of endearment for Sheehan’s characters as they demonstrate their many definitions of love for the reader.

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“As you go into the sitting-room in the Stahlbaums’ house, on your left-hand side you will see a tall glass cabinet set against the wall. All the children’s toys are put away there for safekeeping. Louise, the elder sister, was still quite little when her father had this cabinet built. A very skillful craftsman used fine panes of glass which he fit together so artfully that everything the children put inside looked more shining and lovely than they ever did in the children’s hands.

The elaborate works of art that Drosselmeier made were stowed on the upper shelves, which Fritz and Marie could not reach. Immediately underneath, there was a shelf for the picture books. Fritz and Marie were allowed to do what they liked with the two bottom shelves. Marie claimed the lowest one of all for her dolls’ residence…”

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