“If you were a young witch, who had not yet flown, / and the dark night sky held a round yellow moon…” Well, you’d want to fly, wouldn’t you? McGhee’s gently rhyming direct address coaxes out of readers a yearning they may never have known existed: to “[h]old tight to your broom / and float past the stars, / and turn to the heavens and soar.” Yoo’s gorgeous, muscular woodcuts, colored in subdued greens, browns and oranges with thick, night-black lines, tell the story of one young witch who, unable to sleep, takes herself outside with the support of her Cat and a brown velvet Bat—and with her little brother as silent witness—and, after a flop in the pumpkins, rises on her broom at last. Like its protagonist, this book soars. (Picture book. 3-7)
