HOLD

A game between father and child goes from silly to sweet.

The two are on their way out the door, Daddy’s arms filled with items. Daddy stops and, offering a water bottle, shares a simple request: “Hold, please.” The tot grabs the bottle and asks to hold more. “Hold Speedy?” The stuffed sloth is followed in quick succession by a toy dino and the family’s startled gato. (That last draws a sigh from Daddy that will resonate with frazzled parents the world over.) But the fun’s just begun. Arms full of treasures, the child calls for the seemingly impossible. “Hold tree?” Concise and spirited, Ribay’s structurally simple text mines a range of vibes from page to page as each request gets bolder and sillier. Similar in scope, Peña’s richly lined artwork centers father and child against unembellished backgrounds, zeroing in on distinct facial expressions and firm body movement to elicit humor and affection. Utterly enchanted, the youngster asks to hold rain, a plane flying overhead, and a truck rumbling down the street. Then, Daddy gets an idea. Back at home, he carefully places miniature replicas of what’s possible (sans rain, natch) into the child’s arms. Soon enough, his little one learns that too much stuff can be hard to hold, but holding on to Daddy is always easy. Father and child are cued Latine.

Delightfully tender.