And They Walk On

Gr 1-4–Incorporating, he writes in his afterword, settings, colors, and patterns evocative of both his Mexican background and the author’s Seminole heritage, López (Fry Bread) depicts a bereft brown-skinned child—mostly alone but with comforting adults nearby—wondering where his grandmother has gone and cherishing memories of her large, loving presence. The voice of Maillard’s measured, lovely ruminations isn’t particularly childlike, but the language is simple and the big feelings lingering between the restrained lines are universal. “Because of the magic of food,/ I travel through time,” the narrator reflects, recalling her delicious grape dumplings, and, in a house that looks full but now seems empty, seeing her slippers still on the floor and the hair in her hairbrush, as if she had only just stepped out. “When they walk on,” he observes, “they stay with us/ like the glimmer of a distant star.” Ultimately the experience of loss draws out a larger insight, that “we are all walkers. We may walk long./ We may walk on trails of tears.” But in the end “we all walk on…together.” At the tail end, a recipe for grape dumplings sounds a final grace note.