Ride

When I heard that 𝘈 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘗𝘰𝘯𝘥’s Bao Phi had a new book on the way, I felt that familiar flutter of anticipation, the kind that only certain storytellers can stir. And oh, what a tender, quietly powerful book this is!

In “𝘙𝘪𝘥𝘦”, the pages are split into two panels. On the top, a father teaches his son to ride a bicycle. Below, a mother teaches her son the very same skill, her story unfolding in Vietnam. The narratives mirror each other, yet each carries its own heartbeat.

Language itself becomes part of the story. The upper panel flows in English; the lower is written in Vietnamese, accompanied by an English translation: a gentle reminder that translations can echo meaning, but never fully capture the music of a mother tongue. Visually, the panels are set apart too: cool blue hues above, warm sepia below. Two worlds. One love.

In both stories, a parent runs alongside the bicycle, steadying the young rider for those wobbly first pedals. In both, there comes that inevitable moment of letting go, the fall, and the tears. And then the soft, steadfast encouragement to try again, and again, until balance is found, until the child rides forward on their own.

By the end, each pair returns home, one to a modern dwelling, the other to a home nestled in the Vietnamese countryside. The parallels are quiet but profound. And then, on the final page, when the child in the top panel asks his father who taught 𝘩𝘪𝘮 to ride… Bao Phi and Thi Bui weave their gentle magic in a way that feels both inevitable and breathtaking.

This is what picture books can do. They hold generations in a single spread. They show us that love travels across oceans, across languages, across time.

“𝘙𝘪𝘥𝘦” is not just a book to read, it’s one to feel. And it is absolutely one to watch for in 2026.