Hannah is eager to fit into her new school. It’s the Depression, and her family has relocated from Minneapolis to rural Minnesota. She is the only Jewish girl in her class, and her family is the only Jewish family in the community. Glaser (Emma’s Poem) delves into the girl’s dilemma: there’s a class picnic on Saturday, the perfect opportunity to build friendships, and the teacher is arranging carpools for it, but Hannah’s not allowed to ride in a car on the Sabbath. She frets that no one will understand her problem. “If only she weren’t so far away from all her friends,” Hannah thinks. In Minneapolis, they would have understood the situation. She dreads the moment when she has to speak up. However, when she finally tells her teacher, a surprising solution presents itself. This is a sweet story, based on fact, of a community accepting a stranger with a different religion. Illustrations by Gustavson (Good Luck, Mrs. K.) in shadowy greens, browns, and purples lend a period feel to the story, and his painterly use of texture and light deftly depicts his character’s emotions. Ages 5–9. (Mar.)

"Hannah has just relocated from Minneapolis to rural Minnesota because her father lost his job during the Depression. She is new at school and trying to fit in. The teacher announces that the fall picnic is Saturday, and she is trying to make carpool arrangements. Suddenly, Hannah begins to feel overwhelmed. Home in Minneapolis, Hannah’s old friends would have understood, but here she is scared that she will be an outcast because she is the only Jewish person in the entire school. Her family is observant and does not drive on Shabbat. She begs her family to make an exception and allow her to go with schoolmates in the car, but her parents’ answer is a firm no! After much contemplation, it suddenly dawns on Hannah that she can go if she walks to the park. She explains her predicament to the teacher, who asks if anyone in the class is willing to walk with Hannah. She stares in disbelief as everyone’s hand in the class goes up. This is a touching and true tale of friendship and community. This moving story is based on the author’s visit in 1996 to an exhibit at the Minnesota History Center entitled 'Unpacking on the Prairie: Jewish Women in the Upper Midwest.'" —The Jewish Journal

K-Gr 3—Hannah is having difficulty adjusting to her new life on the Iron Range in Depression-era Minnesota. She has yet to make friends when her teacher announces that the class will be going on a picnic on Saturday and the children should arrange car pools. As an observant Jew, Hannah is unable to ride in a car on the Sabbath. Despite her protests, her parents hold their ground: "Just because there are no other Jews in the community doesn't mean we forget the ways of our people," her father firmly explains. The only way Hannah can go is if she walks the two miles to the park, and her parents insist that she find someone to accompany her. When she finally musters up the courage to explain her predicament to her teacher, she is pleasantly surprised by the outpouring of support, understanding, and friendship from her classmates. Oil paintings richly convey both the historical period and the rural, Upper Midwest setting of the story. Based on a true account from the Minnesota History Center, this simple story with a lovely message would pair nicely with Kathryn Lasky's Marven of the Great North Woods (Harcourt, 1997) and Barbara Cohen's Make a Wish, Molly (Doubleday, 1994).—Rachel Kamin, North Suburban Synagogue Beth El, Highland Park, IL

Sometimes the tiniest actions are the most heroic. In this book--based on a true story--the heroes are children. Illustrator Gustavson is very good at painting eyes. Even when the characters have their eyelids closed, it's easy to read their expressions. Mostly they look nervous. Hannah is nervous because she might have to miss her class picnic. Her family won't drive on the Jewish Sabbath; she's the only Orthodox girl in a school in rural Minnesota. In every picture, Hannah looks nervous in a slightly different way: shy when she's a new student, timid and regretful when she tells her father about the picnic. "Just because there are no other Jews…" he says, "doesn't mean we forget the ways of our people." Hannah thinks: "I don't want to follow the ways of my people… I just want to go on my class picnic." On the second-to-last page, she has to speak up in front of the entire class. Her eyes are pointed at her desk. "I--I can go if someone will walk with me," she whispers. And in one brief, moving sentence, all the students raise their hands to volunteer. In this picture, their eyes are barely visible--they're tiny scribbles of paint--but they seem to be filled with joy. The moment is a little miracle--nearly impossible to believe, but entirely convincing and true. (Picture book. 5-9)