THE LONGEST STORM

A parent, three children, and a dog weather a crisis together.

“A storm came to our town.” Autumn leaves swirl and a child swings from a tire on a tree, yet overhead looms a huge dark cloud. “We were going to have to stay inside, maybe for a long while.” It’s not easy. “There was nothing to do and too much time to do it.” There are moments of chaos: bathtub puddles and dog-chewed shoes. Each person looks unhappy, bored, frustrated, angry. Shockingly, the adult totally loses it. Yet when there’s an enormous flash of lightning (“the whole house shook”) everyone cuddles together, and afterward “things started to get better, a little every day.” The family appears White. Yaccarino’s bold lines and fluid figures against swaths of solid color and his use of shading and shadow are splendid. Outside the windows rain comes down at an angle. Inside there is the yellow glow of a lamp or blue of darkness and the harmony—or momentary clash—of family activity. Sun and blue sky finally make their appearance, and the family is seen in the yard picking up scattered leaves and sticks together, a reminder that the storm didn’t leave things unchanged or unscathed. The story feels emotionally true to the process of going through any profound crisis: a pandemic, death, divorce, or the prolonged absence of a parent who is deployed, a first responder, or battling an illness.

Resonant and reassuring.