Clarke recaps the Gospel Nativity story through the perspective of Maor, an old mouse living in the Bethlehem stable where Joseph and Mary take shelter and Mary delivers Jesus. (Other barnyard animals are present, including a nervous dove called Mendel, a stentorian goose called Gettel, and a cow called Rebecca, whose feed trough makes a serviceable crib.) Jesus’ birth is a hushed affair marked by a quiet holiness emanating from the infant “like a soft breeze,” but it soon draws attention: Poor shepherd boys appear, told by an angel to seek out the newborn babe; the Three Wise Men arrive from the East, summoned by a dream and bearing gifts of gold, myrrh, and frankincense. This rendition of the foundational Christian narrative unfolds in spare but limpid prose that emphasizes the simple humanity of the Holy Family. (“Joseph pressed a damp cloth to his warm body and then washed his son. He gently wrapped the newborn in his best headscarf and placed Him in the arms of His mother.”) Clarke can also write in a more exalted register as awestruck beasts take in the celestial celebration of Christ’s advent. (“Suddenly, it was as if the stable roof opened, and a cloudburst of music gushed forth from the heavens. A thick foggy mist appeared around the stable rafters filled with tiny specks of light the size of a grain of sand.”) Kenny’s illustrations are realistic but also atmospheric with rich chiaroscuro; the people are suffused with unobtrusive joy, and the vividly drawn animals display inquisitive gazes. Her color scheme paints a world of subdued browns, grays, and olive greens that, in moments of divine drama, suddenly erupts with light and color. Children will like the critters, the vibrant visuals, and the homey details in this luminous version of the original Christmas story.

Many kids (and adults) understandably love aquatic mammals. Delaunay presents them from the inside out, in well-organized chapters with short paragraphs covering sleep habits, habitats and migration, reproduction, and diet. Several sections are devoted to these creatures’ social structures and communication, both complex enough that scientists believe cetaceans have their own group cultures. A chapter on the dangers whales face is optimistic, though Delaunay acknowledges that they still face plenty of threats. Indeed, descriptions of collaborative hunting strategies provide concrete evidence of cetacean smarts and social bonds. Though the focus is on facts, Delaunay also briefly summarizes the Inuit story of the Sedna, goddess of the oceans, and quickly lists several other “whale tales.” The writing is a model of clarity and concision. The great variations among cetaceans is evident from both text and art. Large engravings make the most of the subjects, with deep blues, white highlights, and occasional bits of color; point of view and compositional shifts are used to dramatic effect. The book’s up-to-date information, oversize illustrations, and broad scope make it ideal for casual browsing as well as in-depth study, though no backmatter is included.

Although he is little known today, Lothar Witzke was the “sole spy convicted and sentenced to death in the US during World War I.” This book takes a close look at Witzke’s life, particularly his possible role in an act of sabotage known as Black Tom (named for Black Tom Island, where the incident occurred). Black Tom involved the explosion of munitions in New York Harbor on July 30, 1916, that was so severe it damaged the Statue of Liberty. The blast also killed three men and a child. But before the book digs into what happened on July 30, it takes a look at Witzke’s arrest in 1918 and his early years as a sailor. Witzke was only 22 years old when he was apprehended while crossing the border between Mexico and the United States. He was tried before a military tribunal for espionage and, though initially sentenced to death, he was later pardoned. He returned to Germany in 1923 and he hardly led a quiet life before his death in 1962. But what was the extent of his involvement with Black Tom? Witzke’s strange life hardly needs embellishment: Friedland and Hornick’s book does a fine job of sticking to the facts as much as possible. Of course, this is not always easy with a subject who often told “contradictory stories about his early life and his time in America.” Still, the biography provides many rich details. Readers learn about everything from Witzke’s imprisonment in Leavenworth, Kansas, to other incidents he may have been involved in. While the evidence is intriguing, certain statements can be dry, as with a note on Witzke’s potential role in a bombing in San Francisco: “It is necessary to present what is uncontested about the evidence and then to summarize the more plausible theories of cause that compete with it.” Nevertheless, readers have much to discover in this engaging portrait of an undeniably mysterious and intriguing man.

This volume is organized into four thematic sections—“Family & Friendship,” “Immigration & Belonging,” “Witness & Activism,” and “Identity & Self-Love”—which pair entries with the prompts that inspired them. Each section opens with a warm and insightful exchange between the co-editors, Shout Mouse founder Crutcher and 21-year-old Shout Mouse author Aakil. Readers will encounter a wide range of genres and formats, including personal reflections, poetry, a board book, and comics, used to talk about different family structures, housing instability, making a perilous journey to the U.S., and other topics relating to often-underrepresented life experiences. In the charming “Joy-Grace and the Dress Dilemma,” written by Tseganesh Chala and Joy Ugwu and illustrated by Joy Ingram, a Jamaican-born, U.S.-based child with a Nigerian mom and Ethiopian dad struggles to best represent her heritage for Culture Day at school. This entry is one of several that appear in both English and Spanish. Established writers like Clint Smith, Tony Keith Jr., and Safia Elhillo reflect on some of the pieces, adding a rich intergenerational layer. Color and black-and-white illustrations enhance the text and keep readers engaged. Ambitious in both structure and purpose, this bold and moving anthology will support educators in guiding teens to reflect, write, and imagine possibilities.

It’s a frigid day in Cherry Hill Forest; powdery drifts blanket the ground, migrating geese honk overhead, and Emma and her mom, a social worker, stroll along a secluded trail. Emma stumbles upon a camping tent much like those she’s seen in other parks. A woman emerges, and the trio exchange niceties before Emma asks her visibly chilled neighbor, “Don’t you get cold?” Margaret’s affirmative answer prompts mother and daughter to act, but when Mom’s outreach efforts to neighborhood shelters yield few solutions, Emma takes matters into her own hands. Emptying her coin bank, she assembles a kit of essentials and, later, prepares a plate of Christmas dinner for Margaret, learning over a shared meal more about the experiences that have discouraged the woman from seeking placement in a shelter. Emma and her mother listen attentively, attuned to their own privilege; by the time winter arrives again, the pair have identified a potential new home for their friend, a gesture borne from informed empathy. Necessarily narrow in scope, this text offers a jumping-off point for further dialogue. Canadian journalist Davy offers a frank, age-appropriate introduction to housing insecurity, broaching complex systemic realities with digestible tenderness. Delaporte’s appealing art, too, softens the challenging content without minimizing its impact. An author’s note provides additional actionable context for the true story on which the book is based. Mom and Margaret are light-skinned; Emma is tan-skinned.