When her teacher praises Belle’s drawing of an owl and asks how she made him look alive, Belle just shrugs and shakes her head. The owl is part of her private story and not for sharing. Belle and her mom used to have a house, but now they live in their old blue car. They spend nights in a tree-filled park, and Belle’s mom says they’re lucky when the nearby owl hoots because he’s “keeping an eye on you and me.” Belle wants to see the owl but only hears his “hooty lullaby” until the night he alights on a nearby branch. As they look into each other’s eyes, she finds comfort in the owl’s presence. Belle believes she’ll never share her experience, until the day she sees a new boy arriving at school in an old blue car, looking as if he might cry. Thinking of her owl, she shows the new boy around, as if to say “I’m here. I understand. I’ll keep my eye on you.” Belle’s living situation is presented on her own terms, neither romanticized nor catastrophized, in a skillfully understated and child-centered narrative. Each thoughtfully chosen word serves a purpose, matter-of-factly expressing the reality of Belle being unhoused while also beautifully conveying her mother’s loving support and care, and Belle’s empathy for her classmate. The illustrations’ edgy realism is anchored by deep nighttime shades of black, blue, and green.

Belle draws the best owl in class, but she doesn’t say why: she sees them in the park, where she and her mother sleep.

Belle and her mother used to have a house, a table, and chairs, a home like any of Belle’s classmates’. But things changed. Now, they curl up each night in a blanket nest in their old blue car, with their things packed in around them.

The first night was hard, but they’ve never been alone: their friend the owl has always been nearby, hooting in its tree, looking out for them. Belle longs to catch sight of it, and one night, she finally does. That’s how she learned to draw an owl.

No one knows that story. But when a new boy comes to school, a boy whose car looks like Belle’s, a boy who looks lost and scared, it’s Belle’s turn to watch over someone.

Hilary Horder Hippely’s soulful text pairs with Matt James’s atmospheric illustrations in a book all too relevant to the realities of many families. Neither flinching nor sensationalizing, I Know How to Draw an Owl is a deeply empathetic and age-appropriate portrayal of a family experiencing housing insecurity.

A Junior Library Guild Gold Standard Selection