Night on the Sand

by Monica Mayper, Jaime Kim (Illustrator)

Overview

In a tender tale of community and resiliency, two brothers who become refugees find hope in their bond with each other and through their connections with the people they encounter.

“We were not alone,” is the refrain of this moving picture book that encourages empathy and acts of generosity while celebrating the power of human connection.

A little boy looks to his big brother for guidance after a disaster levels their city. Together, the boys journey to a sheltering beach, where they are welcomed by fellow survivors.

Absorbing the warmth of the new community, they begin to help others and to regain a steadying sense of hope. An author’s note includes information about how to help refugees.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781328884183
Publisher:	HarperCollins
Publication date:	08/16/2022
Pages:	32
Sales rank:	1,035,979
Product dimensions:	8.80(w) x 11.10(h) x 0.10(d)
Age Range:	4 - 7 Years

About the Author

After a career in children’s book publishing in New York City, Monica Mayper now describes herself as a “writer-and-reader-in-residence.” A lifelong “practicing poet” and the author of several picture books, she grew up in Fairfield, Connecticut, graduated from Reed College in Portland, Oregon, and makes her home in the community of Orient on Long Island’s North Fork in New York State.

Jaime Kim is the New York Times best-selling illustrator of such books as La La La: A Story of Hope, by Kate DiCamillo, and Take Heart, My Child: A Mother’s Dream, by Ainsley Earhardt. Born and raised in South Korea, Ms. Kim makes her home in North Carolina. Twitter: @jaimekimil, Instagram: @JaimeKimmy. jaimekim.com

Editorial Reviews

06/27/2022

Following an unspecified disaster (“a howl,/ a dark whirl of wind and power”) that crumbles their home, two siblings make their way to a beach with only a blanket, an orange, and each other. With the moon and stars watching over the children (“We were not alone”), more people, portrayed with light skin, dot eyes, and straight brown hair, gather to sleep, “strewn on the shore like shells,/ like rocks, like driftwood.” The next morning, some start a fire and some share food; the siblings offer segments of their orange to the group as “the waves gently brushed the shore.” Soon they all spot a boat coming for them, knowing that they “could not go back.// Only on, to the new we did not know/ that waited on the other shore.” Focusing, per an author’s note, on “our human connection” over story specifics, Mayper writes in opaque prose whose vagueness gives the story an unmoored feel. Kim’s warm-hued, vividly wrought watercolor and digital art, meanwhile, focuses on the natural landscapes the individuals share. An author’s note concludes. Ages 4–7. (Aug.)

Publishers Weekly

"Powerfully compelling." — Kirkus Reviews (starred review)

“Poignant. […] The focus on community and sharing of resources emphasiz[es] a group mentality of communal survival. […] Worthy and needed.” — Bulletin of the Center for Children’s Books

“[The] generous message of hope and help is complemented by the stylized illustrations […] This work could not be more topical or timely.”
— School Library Journal

“Vividly wrought.” — Publishers Weekly

From the Publisher

06/01/2022

K-Gr 2—"There was a howl, a dark whirl of wind and power. / It was night, and cold. /We could not find our father, mother. / Only each other." When their house collapses from a terrifying, unspecified disaster in the middle of the night, two young brothers cannot find their parents and make their way to a nearby beach with only a blanket and an orange. In the morning, they meet other refugees, all dark-haired like them, who start a campfire and share what little food they have; the boys divide up their orange in return. Soon, a rescue boat arrives and takes everyone "to the new we did not know / that waited on the other shore. / We were not alone." As Mayper indicates in an author's note at the end of the book, this refugee story "does not try to recount events that happened to specific people at a particular time, focusing instead on our human connection." That generous message of hope and help is complemented by the stylized illustrations that create a melancholy sense of isolation and disconnect. While the brothers' bond and closeness is apparent, there is a physical as well as emotional distance between them and the other refugees in the story; even on the rescue boat, the brothers stand side by side but apart from everyone else. Although there is a brief mention of their suppressed grief for their lost parents, and the older brother confides "Inside me too was a raw cry. I could not let it out," there is hardly any further mention or closure for this devastating event. VERDICT This work could not be more topical or timely, given the tragically numerous refugee crises, and may share shelf space with Kate Milner's My Name Is Not Refugee and Yuyi Morales's Dreamers, which provide more comprehensive and realistically hopeful depictions of the refugee experience.—Yelena Voysey

School Library Journal

★ 2022-08-31
When a nature-based calamity befalls a pair of young brothers, the boys find refuge and community among sandy shores.

Images of happier times adorn the title and copyright pages: a birthday party, a snuggle on a couch. Turn the page, and a catastrophe emerges with “a howl, / a dark whirl of wind and power.” Snapshots of destruction—homes destroyed, a fallen roof—follow. Bruised purples and deep reds bleed across the artwork, a solemn, breathtaking portrait of ruin. It’s now night, and the brothers can’t find their parents. Covering their shoulders with a blanket, the children walk “one foot in front of the other,” away from the destruction behind them. They arrive at a beach, where they lie down; others slumber near them, “strewn on the shore like shells, / like rocks, like driftwood.” Morning comes, bringing with it soothing light. Hunger pulls the brothers out of their thoughts and toward a fire, where others gather. With the calm waves at their feet, the survivors huddle near the fire, waiting until help breaks through the horizon. This painful yet hopeful tale renders its difficult subject matter palpable. Mayper’s decision to omit specific context from this tale—in, as she describes in an author’s note, a move toward “our human connection"—proves sensible thanks to evocative text that allows readers to fill in the details. Similarly, the artwork delineates moods and emotions via a precise, rich palette that favors visceral landscapes and nondescript characters to its advantage. Characters are dark-haired and light-skinned. (This book was reviewed digitally.)

Powerfully compelling. (Picture book. 4-8)

Kirkus Reviews