Through the power of music, Lucimarian Tolliver is reminded of what’s important.

Lucy is one of the only children of African descent on her block—called Lucy Street—in 1930s Akron, Ohio, but all her neighbors share one commonality: poverty. Lucy’s carefree spirit is dampened when her family’s furniture is repossessed one day. She visits her grandfather, who comforts her by singing the folk standard “This Little Light of Mine.” Grandpa tells Lucy that she’s destined for greatness and that she should never stop singing, even through life’s toughest moments. Back at home, Lucy’s father scolds her for singing at the dinner table, so she quickly finishes eating and wanders outside and sings into the night. Her voice reaches her family and neighbors, who are all touched by her song. Digital illustrations evoke the time period in muted tones, featuring endearing characters with simple yet expressive features. The visual subject matter is repetitive from page to page, as are the incorporated lyrics of “This Little Light of Mine.” Based on Lucimarian Tolliver’s experiences growing up during the Depression, the text contains an epilogue but lacks backmatter detailing historical context or more information about Lucy’s life. Though the themes of optimism and the importance of family, faith, and music shine through the text, readers may be left with more questions than answers.

Readers bid farewell to a beloved canine character.

Momo is—or was—an adorable and very photogenic border collie owned by author Knapp. The many readers who loved him in the previous half-dozen books are in for a shock with this one. “Momo had died” is the stark reality—and there are no photographs of him here. Instead, Momo has been replaced by a flat cartoonish pastiche with strange, staring round white eyes, inserted into some of Knapp’s photography (which remains appealing, insofar as it can be discerned under the mixed media). Previous books contained few or no words. Unfortunately, virtuosity behind a lens does not guarantee mastery of verse. The art here is accompanied by words that sometimes rhyme but never find a workable or predictable rhythm (“We’d fetch and we’d catch, / we’d run and we’d jump. Every day we found new / games to play”). It’s a pity, because the subject—a pet’s death—is an important one to address with children. Of course, Momo isn’t gone; he can still be found “everywhere” in memories. But alas, he can be found here only in the crude depictions of the darling dog so well known from the earlier books.