EACH LITTLE BIRD THAT SINGS

Comfort Snowberger has attended 247 funerals, not because she’s morose but because the Snowberger Funeral Home in Snapfinger, Mississippi, is where she lives with her family. In fact, the dead center of the story, so to speak, is the funeral home. When Uncle Edisto dies and then 90-year-old, great-great-Aunt Florentine, Comfort learns that “it’s not how you die that makes the important impression, it’s how you live.” A difficult belief to accept when tragedy strikes Comfort, her dog, Dismay, and her eight-year-old sniveling cousin, Peach, all caught in a flash flood on the way to Florentine’s graveside service. As Comfort clutches Peach to keep him from going under, Dismay is swept away. Despite the setting and plot, the story is not morbid but is an original celebration of life. Unique characters, inventive names (Comfort’s best friend Declaration, who betrays their friendship), a fresh voice and an honest portrayal of life and death are a match made in heaven—and despite the bland title, a memorable tribute to the joys of living. (Fiction. 8-12)