WHILE WE'RE HERE

One sweet twist turns a lemon into pure delight.

“Hurry, hurry,” a frequent life refrain, drumbeats through the first half of this indelible book as a stylish, Black-presenting child-and-adult pair, both clad in skirts, depart for an important rendezvous. Clutching a gift, hurtling down the subway stairs, the child loses a red ballet flat, returned by a friendly fellow passenger in a hoodie. In successive frames, the parent and child run through a vast city park (which New Yorkers will recognize as Central Park), “to the trail… / round the pond… / cross the bridge… / up the hill… / We have somewhere to be!” At last they reach a picnic table, with a lone red balloon, a left-behind sign, and some discarded cups. Quickly, they pull out a party invitation. “Hurry, hurry, / check the date. / Yesterday. / Yesterday?” Face-in-hands disappointment. Writhe in anguish on the slope? Not a bit: “We’ll head back home, / but while we’re here, / let’s take turns rolling down the hill.” Then “let’s see what’s underneath the bridge,” “watch the ducklings / in the pond,” “walk until the trail runs out.” Balloon aloft, disappointment replaced by joy in nature and in being together, the happy child lovingly embraces the resourceful carer. Archer’s brilliantly luminous cut-paper art sets the characters against vibrant greens and blues, where their vermilion jackets, shoes, and balloon pop, while Wynter’s text positively sings.

A sublime celebration of resilience and what is truly important.