"Even with all those adventures going on in Harold's life, he didn't forget his first friend." - Page 39

Harold and Harold, written by Budge Wilson and illustrated by Terry Roscoe, is a gentle and emotionally resonant children's book that quietly lingers in the mind long after its final page. Set in the coastal landscape of Nova Scotia, the story follows a lonely boy named Harold who forges an unlikely and tender bond with a local heron—whom he also names Harold. Both boy and bird feel like outsiders in their respective worlds, and in each other, they find a kindred spirit.

The narrative carries an emotional maturity that surpasses many stories in the same genre. Although written for children, it speaks thoughtfully to themes of isolation, empathy, and the simple, healing power of quiet companionship. There's a kind of understated wisdom in the way Harold interacts with the heron—he speaks sensibly, and while the bird cannot talk, it listens in a way few others do. Their connection is both whimsical and deeply human.

Living in a Maritime province myself, I found the imagery in this book especially poignant. Wilson's use of sensory language—like the rhythmic crashing of waves on the dock, the taste of a chocolate bar melting on the tongue, or the feeling of wind brushing against Harold’s cheek—creates a vivid and comforting atmosphere. It feels deeply rooted in place, yet universally relatable.

Emotionally, the story handles Harold’s sense of alienation and longing with sensitivity. It doesn't talk down to children but instead offers an honest portrayal of feeling out of step with peers or family. The resolution, which highlights the presence of love and care even when it's not always felt, is tender and hopeful. It's the kind of ending that can bring real comfort to kids experiencing loneliness.

While some whimsical plot turns—particularly in the book’s climax—may stretch logic, it's easy to give the story grace, knowing it operates in the magical realism space of a child’s emotional world. Like many great children's stories, it's not bound by rigid logic, but rather by the emotional truth it conveys.

Interestingly, this book shares a striking thematic kinship with Studio Ghibli’s The Boy and the Heron. Both stories begin with a lonely child and a mysterious bird, using that relationship to explore grief, belonging, and transformation—though Harold and Harold takes a gentler, more grounded path. I wonder if the great anime studio itself took inspiration from such a humble book?

In all, Harold and Harold is a heartfelt and beautifully told story. It's a wonderful read not just for children, but for anyone who's ever felt a little different and found solace in quiet, unexpected friendship. A solid 4 out of 5 stars.

(Attached is fanart of Harold and Harold and my current favourite fandom, South Park! Butters reminded me of Harold so much, both bundles of innocence and quiet joy.)