MY BEST FRIEND MOVED AWAY

Carlson’s (Hooray for Grandparents’ Day!, 2000, etc.) first-person narrator is lucky: she has a best friend. She is also devastated: her best friend has moved away. Readers see her desolation in the boldly colored illustrations of subsequent pages. Her yellow dog accompanies her upstairs as she totes a photo album to her room, dejection in even the dog’s paw. The images anchored in the album date from babyhood; the living memories of starting kindergarten together, hanging out in their tree fort, exploring galaxies in a cardboard box, and playing soccer are bubble-framed dreamscapes. Life ahead promises only boredom. There are memories of fights, but those are balanced by making up. Misery needing space, our heroine leaves her room to sit on her front step, there to relive other good memories as the new neighbor’s moving van is unloaded. Who will she tell she’s sorry? Or share things with? Except the new family has a dog and toys “and someone who looks my age!” The new girl also knows what to do with a soccer ball. (Our heroine is sufficiently savvy to know that her old best friend will make new friends, too.) An expressive tribute to the pain of farewells—and the joys of hellos bolstered and enriched by good memories—this is sure to empower not only kids who move away, but also those who stay behind. (Picture book. 3-8)