The hole

This tender, deeply empathetic story, narrated by a child grieving the loss of a sibling, offers a moving exploration of grief's many layers. "There's a hole in the bottom bunk where my brother, Matty, used to sleep," the narrator reflects on the first page. The illustrator visualizes this hole as a black scribble drifting throughout the house, a metaphor for grief that captures its persistent, all-encompassing nature. The hole appears beside Mom and Dad as they try to carry on and, affectingly, over their hearts as the family sits together at dinner. "I hate these holes," the narrator confesses, as classmates react in varying ways: some ignore them, some fail to notice. A friend, Nora, takes a different approach. Curious about the hole, she stays by the protagonist's side as her friend descends into it, spotlighted in the emotional illustrations by a warm yellow light. The story reaches a cathartic turning point when the child collapses in sorrow, shouting out, "I miss you, Matty." In the quiet that follows, Nora encourages her friend to share stories. These recollections bring them to vivid life, later brightening the mood at the family dinner table and offering a sense of connection and healing amidst their shared loss. Julie DanielsonMarch/April 2025 p.44 (c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

A family deals with the loss of a child. "Matty's gone," and his parents and sibling (who narrates the story) are struggling with the feelings left behind, symbolized here as holes and depicted as scrawled, tight spirals in the middle of characters' chests or on items that Matty once used. The protagonist is trailed everywhere by a hole. While some classmates don't know how to provide support, many admit to living with holes of their own, representing other dearly departed family members. One day, the protagonist sees Matty's best friend running and playing and feels upset. With the support of a friend named Nora, the child descends into one of the holes and finds comfort in crying, shouting, and throwing clumps of dirt. Nora invites the narrator to talk more about Matty, and the tale ends with the realization that "I don't hate that hole. Not anymore. Because I know I can always fill it with memories of him." This thought-provoking, poignant look at mourning never explicitly names death but makes concrete a euphemism that could be confusing to children while showing that love for a deceased family member always endures. In Magro's striking collage illustrations, the protagonist is light-skinned and redheaded, while Nora is brown-skinned with three puffs atop her dark hair. A unique and hopeful exploration of grief.(Picture book. 4-7) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.