Last Stop on Market Street

Author Matt de la Pe–a and narrator Lizan Mitchell are a winning combination in this story of CJ, an African-American boy and his Nana as they take the bus after Sunday church. Mitchell inhabits both CJ and his grandma from the moment he pushes through the church doors and questions why they must take a rickety bus while others have cars. She replies, "We don't need a car; we have a bus that breathes fire." Mitchell's spirited recitation of "The bus lurched forward and stopped, lurched forward and stopped" ensures that young listeners can vividly imagine the action. Each of CJ's complaints is met with Nana's warmly rendered clever and fun alternatives. Audio is the ideal way for kids to experience this emotive gem. S.G.B. Winner of AudioFile Earphones Award © AudioFile 2015, Portland, Maine

Starred review from October 27, 2014
Like still waters, de la Peña (A Nation’s Hope) and Robinson’s (Gaston) story runs deep. It finds beauty in unexpected places, explores the difference between what’s fleeting and what lasts, acknowledges inequality, and testifies to the love shared by an African-American boy and his grandmother.
On Sunday, CJ and Nana don’t go home after church like everybody else. Instead, they wait for the Market Street bus. “How come we don’t got a car?” CJ complains. Like many children his age, CJ is caught up in noticing what other people have and don’t have; de la Peña handles these conversations with grace. “Boy, what do we need a car for?” she responds. “We got a bus that breathes fire, and old Mr. Dennis, who always has a trick for you.” (The driver obliges by pulling a coin out of CJ’s ear.) When CJ wishes for a fancy mobile music device like the one that two boys at the back of the bus share, Nana points out a passenger with a guitar. “You got the real live thing sitting across from you.” The man begins to play, and CJ closes his eyes. “He was lost in the sound and the sound gave him the feeling of magic.” When the song’s over, the whole bus applauds, “even the boys in the back.” Nana, readers begin to sense, brings people together wherever she goes.
Robinson’s paintings contribute to the story’s embrace of simplicity. His folk-style figures come in a rainbow of shapes and sizes, his urban landscape accented with flying pigeons and the tracery of security gates and fire escapes. At last, CJ and Nana reach their destination—the neighborhood soup kitchen. Nana’s ability to find “beautiful where he never even thought to look” begins to work on CJ as the two spot people they’ve come to know. “I’m glad we came,” he tells her. Earlier, Nana says that life in the deteriorated neighborhood makes people “a better witness for what’s beautiful.” This story has the same effect. Ages 3–5. Agent: Steven Malk, Writers House.

Starred review from August 1, 2015

Gr K-2-In this beautiful, magical tribute to an intergenerational relationship between a boy and his grandmother, CJ and his Nana take the bus home after church on Sundays, unlike some of his friends, who jump in their family cars and drive away. CJ's envy is understandable, but Nana's positive outlook on the many advantages of their journey soon influences CJ to view his trip differently. A man with a guitar on the bus provides a concert that certainly can't compare to listening to music on a car radio. When CJ wonders why a blind man can't see, Nana reminds him that "some people watch the world with their ears." Nana's commentary inspires CJ and listeners to find the beauty in the mundane and the treasure in the trivial. This gem is enhanced by Lizan Mitchell's sensitive narration, inviting listeners to take a seat behind CJ and Nana until they reach their stop. VERDICT This is an essential addition to any library that values diversity and fresh perspective.-Terri Perper, Olney Elementary School, MD

Copyright 2015 School Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.