My Friend May

Some friendships are built on adventure; others thrive in stillness. And some — like the one between Margaux and her beloved cat May — rest on love, patience, and an understanding that sometimes, friends leave… and then return.

Flett’s new picture book draws on a true story from her own family, but speaks to much wider themes: love and loss, uncertainty, and the small acts of care that bring us home again. The landscape format suits the gentle, meandering journey at its heart — a format Flett uses to full effect, giving every spread a sense of open space, distance, and emotional weight.

Margaux and May have grown up together, a friendship shaped by shared moments and quiet affection. But one day, May doesn’t return home. As Margaux worries and searches, her Auntie (Nitésis) is preparing to leave for the city — a parallel loss that Margaux can feel but not fully name. Unbeknownst to them both, May has stowed away in the moving truck. It is this unexpected thread — cat, auntie, and niece — that eventually draws them all back together, offering comfort in the face of change.

Visually, this is signature Flett: spare, elegant compositions with rich textural warmth. Each line and colour choice serves the emotional arc — from the flat weight of Margaux’s worry to the eventual comfort of reunion. As always, Flett’s work here is as much about what is left unsaid and unseen as what is on the page.

Cultural nuance deepens the book’s resonance. Without overstatement, Flett — herself Cree-Métis — weaves in relational language, kinship terms, and the importance of family connection. The Dear Reader note and included Cree wordlist further this invitation: a gentle, open door into Margaux and May’s world. It is a testament both to Flett’s artistry and to Greystone Kids’ continued championing of diverse, authentic voices.

And, in a perfect closing gesture, Flett invites her readers too: Do you have a story to tell? Your turn. A delight for young readers, and a reminder that stories—like friendships—are meant to be shared. Tender, beautifully paced, and resonant long after the final page, this is storytelling as an act of care.