WHEN THE WIND CAME

The story of a natural disaster as remembered by a child.

Sentences that start with “I remember…” demonstrate the power of memory. What this brown-skinned child is remembering is a seemingly ordinary day on the family farm. The narrator’s parents work while they try to read. “I remember my baby brother / whimpering, / whimpering, / whimpering. / Every day, / every day, / every day.” Suddenly the wind comes, “blowing / harder / and harder / and harder.” The child and their family run for the root cellar and sit in darkness. The protagonist’s matter-of-fact declaration—“Our home was gone / when we came out”—speaks to their shock and despair. A third shift in the narrative arc is signaled by a change in the illustrations, from dark, foreboding images of a vast untamed prairie to light, playful images of the bubbles the child blows while washing dishes. This deceptively uncomplicated book offers a hopeful perspective on loss: Joy and laughter are possible even in the face of disaster. Leung’s painterly vistas and expressive faces complement Andrews’ lean poetic phrasing. The land and nature’s might are silent characters in the story. The reader is left pondering the narrator’s final words: “Those laughs didn’t change anything. / They made no difference. // Those laughs changed everything. They made all the difference in the world.” (This book was reviewed digitally.)

Memory, fear, despair, and ultimately hope blow through this quiet story of courageous resilience.