How 'bout a Lift? Please Bring Balloons by Lindsay Ward

On her way to school, Emma just happens to pass a carousel with a handsome polar bear mount. She can't help noticing a piece of paper peeking out from under his saddle. It shows a simple line drawing of a balloon on a string. The note says

PLEASE BRING.

Obligingly, Emma brings a helium balloon by the next morning and ties it to the saddle.

The next morning there is another note, with a drawing of a bunch of balloons.

PLEASE BRING MORE.

It's a bit of a trick to tow a bunch of flighty balloons along on her way by the carousel, but as the bemused Emma tells herself,

"THIS MAY BE IMPORTANT."

When she finishes tying each of the strings to Polar Bear's saddle, Emma cannot resist hopping up on his back, but when she does, the bear lifts off his spot on the merry-go-round and floats up into the sky for a fanciful flight to the stars. As they fly toward the North Star, Emma warms herself by leaning forward against the bear's furry neck, and they soon land in crunchy white snow, where she finds her school shoes have become red snow boots.  And as she follows in the bear's snowy prints, she finds herself where a bunch of polar bears in colorful costumes dance for her in the snow under the midnight moon.

It is a pretty good adventure, all in all,  although Emma falls asleep and finds herself back in her own bed, with morning already breaking. She hurries into her school clothes and hustles toward school. But there's another note stashed in Polar Bear's saddle. Emma just has to check it.

PLEASE BRING BICYCLE.

It sounds as if more adventures are in store for Emma, in Lindsay Ward's Please Bring Balloons (Dial, 2013). Is Emma's adventure a dream or a fantasy trip to the far North? Lindsay Ward's dreamlike illustrations don't give anything away, and that will just fine with young dreamers who enjoy her stellar artwork. "Lined paper, spattered night skies, and washes of white paint over maps and algebraic equations infuse Ward's cut-paper, pencil and watercolor collages with texture and interest," writes Kirkus Reviews.

First Snow: Cub's Big World by Sarah L. Thompson

CUB KNEW ALL ABOUT THE WORLD.
IT WAS SMOOTH
AND WHITE
AND COOL.

INSIDE THE WORLD WERE MOM
AND CUB
AND THAT WAS ALL.

For a newborn cub, just opening her eyes, her den, dug deep in the snow and snug and warm with Mom's big furry body surrounding her, is a fine world, but a very small one.

But when Mom amazingly pokes a hole in that world and leads Cub outside, her concept of the world is transformed.  There is so much light, yellow and bright, that Cub has to blink and blink until her eyes grow used to it.  The sky is a color that is totally new.  Mom says it's called "blue."

Cub climbs a small hill. It's hard, but when she gets to the top, she suddenly slips and slides down the other side!

FAST! FAST! FAST!

THE WORLD IS FUN!

Now Cub can't wait to see what the whole world is like. But where is Mom in all this whiteness? Then she remembers Mom has a black nose. Cub sets out toward something black.

She meets big, black ravens who squawk at her, ermine with black tips on their tails who swish away, and then, looking down into a hole in the ice, into the deep green water, she sees the flash of a black seal who dives deep under the sea. It's all very exciting, but when Cub looks up again, she can't see anything but snow and more snow. Where is Mom?

THE WORLD WAS TOO BIG!

Sarah Thompson's Cub's Big World (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2013) makes creative use of her polar snowcap setting in this lovely exploration of the familiar "little runaway" theme.  Thompson's full-bleed pages portray the many colors of the arctic world--blinding white in the sun, cool icy blue in the shadows, and multicolored under the colors of the Northern Lights. Cub is small but central in this snowscape as she bravely sets out to explore her environment. Being alone in that big world is truly scary, but young readers will spot Mom keeping watch at a distance until she senses that her cub is ready for her mom to reappear and restore her perspective on the world.

This is an old story, (much older even than Peter Rabbit) told in spare but lyrical language, depicted in distinctive and exquisite illustrations which show Cub's enlarging world from a variety of perspectives. It is also one that is a metaphor for the young child, whose world grows with each exploration, especially with a parental presence to make sure each experience is good for the youngster's growing understanding. Horn Book's reviewer says, "The suspense is toddler-perfect, with Mom appearing the moment it all becomes too much. . . Lap-sit ready, with a built-in hug at the end."

It Takes Two: Polar Bear Morning by Lauren Thompson

THE LITTLE POLAR BEAR HEARS THE SEAGULLS CALLING.

What Little Polar Bear sees is a new morning, the sky still a midnight blue against the white snow. Then the golden sun shows over the ice and with the promise of new adventures out there, he sets forth to explore his new world. As the sky shows pink with the sunrise, he plays in the snow.

And then he sees something intriguing at the top of a snowdrift. It seems to have a face. And it is looking at him with great interest.

It is another baby bear, and the two of them begin to learn to play together, tumbling down the snow hill and finally taking the plunge into the blue waters to swim deep down and then up into the light, where they climb up upon a friendly ice floe to rest.

It's a simple little story, illuminated by the artist Stephen Savage in a striking palette of blue, black, and white in eye-cating block prints. Lauren Thompson's latest, Polar Bear Morning (Scholastic, 2013) is a companion piece to the earlier heralded Polar Bear Night (New York Times Best Illustrated Children's Books (Awards)), reminding us that one is the loneliest number, but two can do it all.