Some of Our Favorite Books for Grieving Children


I have always loved children's books, but never have I appreciated them with the depth I have acquired of late. Over the past year the kids and I have explored and hungered for a genre of children's literature we never considered before February 2024: death, grief, and heaven. As a family with a biblical worldview, it is especially important to us such literature contains the truth and hope of the gospel without sugarcoating the painful reality of death and loss. We have been thoughtfully gifted some of these, while others came to us through recommendations or hungry searching. Over the past year I have shared some of these on social media, but, at the suggestion of a friend, decided to gather our favorites in one place. The following are simply from the ones we have accessed this past year. I am sure there are numerous others we have yet to discover, and if you want to share some of your favorites (and why) we'd love to hear about them!

Because these are by nature children's books, I am including the opinions and recommendations of my three oldest children as well as my own. They are three unique temperaments and personalities, each having their own books to which they gravitate. They share the common bond of sorrow over the loss of their precious little sister, but even children gravitate towards different books at different time (as has their mommy). So, in no particular order: 

1. Something Sad Happened by Darby Strickland
This book beautifully introduces children (and adults) to the gift of lament. It prompted sweet, yet heartbreaking discussions with my children. After defining lament among the pages, my son asked, "why don't we do that at church?". Tears, sad songs, and truly weeping with those who weep are normalized when Sunny's little friends listen to her lament, cry with her, then reach into her sorrow to catch her tears. It is a personal favorite of mine. Something Sad Happened is not specific to a particular loss, which makes it a treasure for children experiencing the loss of any loved one. Of note, Darby Strickland has also written, Something Scary Happened, which is very well done and can be used to help children of various types of traumas, not solely the death of a loved one. 

2. Here I'm Happy by Elizabeth Rose Hoffman
Before Elizabeth and I ever connected over our family's book, we ordered her book after remembering a mutual friend had told me about it upon its release (long before we lost our Abigail). Elizabeth knows grief, as she lost her mother at a tender age; I think this made her a "kindred spirit" of sorts for Avonlea. I would often find my seven-year-old daughter flipping through these pages, knowing the story behind the story, and just taking in all the beautiful illustrations. From a vocabulary and word count perspective this is excellent for younger children, but it is evident Elizabeth was very intentional in the choice of words for each page. This mama cries regularly when I get to a certain part. Even though the relationship to the loved one lost was different, Elizabeth transcends that in her unique and beautiful way. This book is one I will especially keep on hand to pass on to children grieving the loss of a parent. 

3. Millie Finds Her Miracle by Courtney Mount. 
When asked to pick her favorites, Millie Finds Her Miracle was easily one of Avonlea's top three. Courtney is another waiting mama: waiting well for the day she holds her Millie again. She so generously sent my children a copy of her book, written from Millie's perspective. This perspective is a unique one, which drew Avonlea in. Millie was very close to Abigail's age when she found her miracle in Heaven. If you know a child suffering from a terminal illness or who has a sibling with a terminal illness this may be a comforting gift. We were able to "meet" sweet Millie by seeing her photos in the back of this book, which was a precious gift. "Abigail and Millie are in Heaven together!" was a comforting and exciting realization for big sister. 

4. The Moon is Always Round by Jonathan Gibson is absolute a precious reminder of God's goodness even when we cannot see it. Just as the moon is always round, so God is always good. Gabe and Malachi both picked this book as one of their favorites, not surprisingly as this book is written from the perspective of a big brother whose baby sister passed away at 39 weeks gestation. The author is a grieving father who acknowledges children's hard questions surrounding death and heaven. While the circumstances were quite different, this book was one of the very few we found specific to the loss of a sibling, which is probably another reason it was especially meaningful. The message within its pages is important for children and adults alike. 

5. One Wave at a Time by Holly Thompson was a special book to me in the sense it sparked honest conversation between the kids and myself regarding the many emotions we all experience during grief. (I call this the spaghetti plate of emotion.) This book describes these emotions as waves of varying frequency and intensity. While one frequently experiences many different waves in the same moment, this book helped my children name some of the emotions swirling in their hearts whether or not tears were present. One of my children seemed to experience the anger wave with strong intensity, but not quite able to recognize it was related to their grief. After reading this, I told them how I experience ALL of these waves, whether or not they see them. They all assumed because of my tears my only wave was sadness. We were able to talk about how I have many waves, including anger, but they just don't always see those waves at their highest peaks. They learned why we now have a punching bag hanging in our garage (my van seats were taking a beating) and other ways I expressed and acknowledged my anger. This seemed to give my child permission to recognize and admit his primary wave was anger, and this seemed to come with a sense of relief in knowing he wasn't alone. This particular book centered around the loss of a father, which may be especially helpful in offering solidarity in those particular cases. 

Our little Abigail loved to "read'. 

6. The Royal in You by Jordan Raynor
When you have a child, sibling, or loved one waiting for you in heaven it becomes a place so much more tangible and eagerly longed for. Gabe identified this book about heaven as one of his favorites as this is where his sister now calls home. He particularly loved the illustrations and the way it gave his imagination permission to visualize heaven. The illustrator merged some of children's favorite things on earth with the wonder and beauty of our wildest, purest imagination. I would correlate a child's love for this book with the same feeling I had when reading Imagine Heaven by John Burke. 

7. Where Did TJ Go? by Annie F. Downs
The dedication page of this book states, "To Sam, and to all the brothers and sisters like Sam who are learning how to live in a world with good news and sad stories. You are brave and you are loved." This sums up the care this author (and family of TJ) has for children grieving the loss of a brother or sister. I mentioned earlier how difficult it is to find children's story books specific to sibling loss, but here is another sweet find. Albeit most of the books on sibling grief are related to the infant loss of a brother or sister. So, in that case, these books are all the more helpful. This precious book follows a little boy who had such big plans for his baby brother (my kids can definitely relate and have even spoken this aloud), but sadly baby TJ never gets to come home. "Big" brother Sam is left wondering about where TJ is now. I absolutely love books that present the possibilities in heaven from a child's perspective. As Christian adults we talk of an intermingling of joy and sorrow; this book introduces that concept in a subtle way for children. 

8. What Do I Do with Worry? by Dr. Josh and Christi Straub
One may wonder what this book is doing on a list for grieving children, yet it has SO MUCH to do with the compounded and exponential pain of losing someone: a sister in Avonlea, Gabe, and Malachi's case.  My children, who were playing and laughing with their sister the night before and morning of her death, were dealt an unexpected crippling blow that has left bruises of fear and anxiety. When one of them is sick, I can no longer tell them they will be ok because they know all too well scary and terrible things can happen when we least expect it. Worries of their own health, one another, or even Adam and I are just a few we deal with regularly. My daughter has already asked "what if I lose a child when I'm a mommy?" and she's verbalizing all the moments in her future she thought her sister would be a part of but no longer will. Loneliness compounds her worries. This sweet book encourages children to take all their worries to Jesus, for he cares about each of them. 

There really are some precious books out there on death, heaven, and grief, many of which I didn't have the space to detail here. There were many other books that spoke to each of us in various ways, and if you asked me about them individually, I would definitely recommend them. 

Nevertheless, over the last year I have discovered a gap in children's literature I never wanted to know about. I don't mean this critically, just pragmatically. Children's books dealing with the specific loss of a sibling who loved and laughed with brothers and sisters, who is a part of so many childhood memories, and who is captured in photos alongside them found hanging throughout the house are in short supply. It's this gap that our family hopes to one day step into and offer a steppingstone for the children courageously and painfully carrying a heavy sorrow many will (thankfully) never know or understand. 

I am ever so grateful for the authors and families who have shared their gift, sorrow, and hope with the world in the form of children's literature. I know of at least three young children who feel a little more seen, a little less lonely, and a little more hopeful as a result. 

Abigail would frequently be found "reading" to her babies.

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