ONE DAY

A child loses a grandparent, mourns the absence, and constructs a story about where that grandparent may be.

“One day, / Grandpa is gone,” opens this Korean import, told in a direct, forthcoming voice. With “Grandpa is gone” as a stark repeated refrain, the grieving grandchild chronicles the absence: Grandpa’s shoes are still in the closet, “waiting to be worn”; he’s not there to pick up his name stamp from the stationery store; and everyone asks about him. Why, the child wonders, would Grandpa leave so suddenly, without any goodbyes? But as readers learn about the loss, intermittent spreads reveal an imagined destination for Grandpa: his own planet, complete with the tailoring shop he had during his life. The double gatefold that closes the book reveals even more details, the child speculating that perhaps Grandpa now lives in this place “full of dazzling stars.” In this fantastical place, the beloved objects of Grandpa’s world walk on feet or fly through space; a button hangs in the sky like a planet; and a pincushion serves as a moon. The book’s plainspoken, authentically childlike observations are poignant in their restraint: At one point, the child, wrapped in Grandpa’s jacket, breathes in his scent, repeating (and seeming to finally accept) that “Grandpa is gone.” The striking dust jacket illustration reveals grandchild (cover) and grandparent (back cover) standing on balls of thread or yarn, doubling as planets, that connect them in the vastness of space.

Tender and touching.