Sharing

Charles loves his favorite things -- skates, a xylophone, a doctor kit, a toy chicken farm -- all lovingly tucked in each night. When his well-intentioned parents nudge him toward "build[ing] some social skills" by joining clubs at the park, Charles isn't convinced he fits in with the Jolly Jumpers, ChitChat Chums, or Chocolate Chipper singers. But when he begins to share his beloved toys with kids at the park -- first reluctantly, then freely -- something shifts. Through each small exchange, he discovers the reward of generosity: friendship. Wells's familiar watercolor and ink illustrations, here starring anthropomorphized mice, brim with emotional nuance and playful detail, often in scenes isolated with green borders. Charles's expressions subtly shift across spreads, capturing the hesitancy and quiet courage that accompany his social exploration. The park scenes, filled with soft greens and warm browns, offer just enough chaos to mirror the busyness of real-life playgrounds without overwhelming the eye. Speech balloons color-coded by speaker may aid emerging readers. Wells's visual storytelling complements the text, as seen when Charles's once-private possessions are repurposed in communal play -- used as goalposts, props, and peace offerings. A thoughtful portrayal of early social development that quietly offers children permission to be unsure and encouragement to try anyway. Annisha JeffriesSeptember/October 2025 p.54 (c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

A young mouse learns to share his beloved possessions with others. Charles' parents think it's time he socialized with other children, so he and his mother head to the park, where kids approach him and the tempting pile of toys he's brought from home. Nigel is curious about Charles' xylophone; Charles is delighted to share it with him. And, of course, Monica can drive his fire engine! Charles agreeably hands over each of his treasures, even when his astronaut toy becomes marooned in a tree and another child uses up the contents of his doctor kit. (Observant readers will notice that Charles' smile falters, but his demeanor otherwise remains calm and unaffected.) When Charles' mother wonders where all his belongings have gone, he replies, "I shared them with my friends. And friends are better than things," concluding the narrative with a heavy-handed moral. Charles seems either too meek to protest his toys being mishandled or implausibly mature for his age, never bristling at the prospect of sharing with strangers. Young children and their grown-ups know all too well that this isn't a realistic portrayal of playground sharing, and without any of the story's challenges faced head-on, the tidy message rings hollow. Wells' signature warm, anthropomorphic illustration style is as appealing as ever, portraying Charles and friends as cheerful gray mice. A sweet but unconvincing tale of cooperation.(Picture book. 3-6) Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.