Review of “A Stargazer” by Dr. Tuula Pere

​Score: 93+/100 (9.3+ out of 10)

Some children look at the night sky and see darkness.
Others see questions.

They see distant worlds, glowing possibilities, mysteries waiting to be explored, and perhaps even a star boy flying past the window with a pocketful of healing stardust.

A Stargazer by Tuula Pere is a charming, visually enchanting children’s book about imagination, curiosity, loneliness, science, and the importance of having someone who takes your sense of wonder seriously.

Pere is certainly no stranger to the Outstanding Creator Awards. She is a previous multi-time OCA Ultimate Champion, OCA Super Champion, and the only person ever named OCA Author of the Year twice (in consecutive years, no less).

A Stargazer further demonstrates that Pere is still capable of exploring new characters and ideas while retaining the emotional warmth and humanity that have made so many of her stories memorable.

The book follows a young girl named Aylin, who becomes seriously ill after spending too much time outside building an enormous snow lantern. Her cheeks burn with fever, her throat hurts, and her parents worry as she lies in bed struggling to recover.

To be perfectly honest, this book had a bit of a slow start. The illness is enough to hook most readers, but the illness as a whole is a small part of the overall book. It's not like The Shoemaker's Lamp (also by Tuula Pere) in which the child is sick throughout the book. Both of these books feature bedridden children who love to look out the window, perhaps clinging to hope. However, this book veers and ventures into a whole other pathway altogether. It's almost as if this book moves past the illness angle, for better or for worse. We actually appreciated that and preferred the second half of this book to the beginning.

Speaking of which... When Aylin reaches for a glass of water and accidentally knocks it to the floor, she discovers that she has lost her voice. No one hears her attempts to call for help. Frightened and alone, she notices a strange light flashing outside her window.

The light enters her room and reveals a friendly, glowing star boy named Vesper.

And this becomes a different kind of book entirely. It goes from being rather grounded to becoming a bit more fantastical. Depending on how you view Vesper (as either an angelic or fairy-like supernatural being or an alien "star child"), you could even argue this book has a sci-fi angle.

Anyway, Vesper explains that he comes from the distant starry sky and happened to notice that Aylin needed help. He blows magical stardust over her, promising that it will work better for her fever and sore throat than any ordinary medicine. By the following morning, Aylin feels dramatically better.

Unfortunately, no one believes her. Her parents assume that the fever caused her to dream the encounter. Her mother even warns her not to speak about the star boy because other children might tease her. This warning is understandable from the perspective of a protective parent, but it also begins one of the book’s most important emotional threads. Rather than feeling safe enough to share her experience, Aylin gradually learns that the adults around her may dismiss anything they cannot easily explain.

That fear becomes reality at school. When Aylin attempts to tell her teacher about Vesper and the healing stardust, the teacher smiles and calls it evidence of Aylin’s “vivid imagination.” She suggests that Aylin turn it into a funny story for a writing assignment.

The teacher is not openly cruel, but her response unintentionally gives the other children permission to laugh. Soon Aylin is being teased by classmates who jokingly ask whether Vesper can cure their pets. What had been a beautiful and deeply personal experience becomes a source of embarrassment.

This is where A Stargazer becomes more than a simple fantasy about a magical visitor. It actually says a bit about the human experience as a whole, a human experience that often has to come to terms with intangible things like superstition, religion, beliefs, imagination, and faith, then balance them with the harsh realities of the physical world.

Aylin does not respond by abandoning her curiosity. Instead, she turns toward books. That's actually really interesting! It encourages kids to seek knowledge, particularly through literature and independent research.

Aylin herself visits the library, where the friendly librarian Elly guides her toward nonfiction books about astronomy. Aylin begins reading everything she can find about space. She learns about planets, constellations, and the enormous universe surrounding Earth. She studies the sky with her father, saves money for months, and eventually purchases a telescope.

On that note, can we just stop and appreciate the fact that Aylin had so much conviction and determination that she was willing earn and save up all the money just to buy a telescope? She literally funded research into her own theory. This is like Ava as a Top Seller on steroids.

Attaway to teach kids to be industrious, driven, and entrepreneurial. This book encourages kids to invest in their curiosity!

This progression is one of the book’s greatest strengths. Vesper ignites a lasting hunger for knowledge, sorta becoming her muse. Imagination becomes the doorway to education. Wonder leads to reading. Reading leads to observation. Observation leads to thoughtful questions.

That is a beautiful message for young readers. The book does not suggest that children must choose between imagination and science. Aylin’s belief in Vesper and her fascination with astronomy grow together. She wants to understand what she saw, but she also wants to understand the real universe around her.

Unfortunately, the people around her continue to treat those two interests as incompatible.

During a class visit to an observatory, Aylin arrives prepared with a written list of questions. She listens carefully to the astronomer’s presentation, even as her classmates become bored. When she finally asks whether the powerful observatory telescope could help her find Vesper’s home, the astronomer becomes annoyed.

“We’re not here to fool around,” he tells her. “At this observatory, we talk only about pure science, young lady!”

Interestingly, we just watched an episode of "Young Sheldon" in which Sheldon is inspired to concoct a whole theoretical solution to landing rockets just to spite a visiting astrophysicist who dismissed him (which he took as an insult). A similar plot

Anyway, in A Stargazer, the response is unnecessarily sharp, especially toward a child whose enthusiasm should be encouraged rather than humiliated. Once again, Aylin’s classmates laugh. Hurt and embarrassed, she leaves the group and hides on the stairs.

Fortunately, the observatory’s elderly janitor notices her. Janitors tend to be the wisest person in every building. Trust us, we know...

This quiet man becomes the emotional hero of the story. Unlike the parents, teacher, classmates, and astronomer, he does not immediately tell Aylin that she is wrong. He listens. He speaks kindly. He admits that he does not possess all the answers, but he shares her love of the stars. The janitor even tells her that he sometimes sees the star children flashing in the distance as they fly past.

Whether he has truly seen them or simply understands that Aylin needs encouragement remains slightly ambiguous. Either way, the moment matters because he treats her with dignity.

He does not need a scientific title, a classroom, or an advanced degree to recognize the value of curiosity. In fact, the astronomer knows more facts about space, but the janitor understands wonder.

This reminded us of the janitor at NASA who said, "I'm helping to land a man on the Moon."

When Aylin asks whether he has seen stardust, he explains that space is full of it and jokes that some of it even ends up in the eyes of people like them. Aylin replies, “I think we’re both starry-eyed!”

It is a sweet line, but it also captures the entire purpose of the book.

Being starry-eyed does not have to mean being foolish or unrealistic. It can mean remaining open to beauty, possibility, discovery, and questions that do not yet have easy answers.

Nyamdorj Lkhaasuren’s illustrations are eye-catching and contribute to the book’s impact.

Aylin is adorable, expressive, and immediately sympathetic. Her enormous dark hair, bright blue eyes, flushed cheeks, tiny boots, and changing facial expressions make her emotions easy for young readers to understand. She looks genuinely ill beneath her strawberry-patterned bedding, wonderfully amazed during Vesper’s visit, proud beside her telescope, and heartbreakingly small when surrounded by laughing classmates.

The illustrations also contain many memorable details. The snowy red house, the towering snow lantern, the cluttered mitten drawer, the family breakfast table, the space-themed library shelves, and the observatory all feel distinct and full of personality.

The contrast between light and darkness is especially effective. Aylin’s bedroom becomes a dark blue universe when Vesper arrives. His glowing body and streaming stardust make the encounter feel warm and comforting rather than frightening. Later, the institutional spaces of the school and observatory appear grayer and colder, reflecting the emotional distance Aylin feels from the people around her.

The cosmic spreads are the visual highlights. Planets, star children, comets, and waves of glowing light fill the pages with energy. The final close-up of Aylin and the janitor, both with stars reflected in their eyes, provides a lovely visual conclusion.

There are a few areas where the story could have been even stronger.
The pattern of adults dismissing Aylin becomes somewhat repetitive. Her parents doubt her, her teacher minimizes her experience, her classmates ridicule her, and the astronomer responds harshly. Because nearly everyone reacts negatively, the world around Aylin can feel unusually unsupportive. And, we digress, that seems to be the point.

The astronomer’s reaction is particularly severe. His refusal to engage with Aylin’s imaginative question risks making science appear cold and hostile, even though true scientific inquiry is built upon curiosity. A more nuanced exchange could have allowed him to explain the difference between evidence and imagination without humiliating her.

The story also contains more text than many traditional picture books. Younger children may need an adult to read it aloud, while independent readers will likely need to be in the older elementary range. Some passages could have been tightened without losing their meaning.

Still, these concerns do not diminish the book’s warmth or central message.

A Stargazer is about far more than a girl searching for a magical boy among the stars.

It is about what happens when a child experiences something meaningful but cannot convince anyone else that it mattered.

It is about how ridicule can make a young person stop sharing.

It is about the adults who unintentionally extinguish curiosity and the rare people who help it glow again.

Most importantly, it reminds us that imagination and education do not have to compete. Sometimes a dream, a story, or an impossible question is exactly what inspires a child to open a book, save for a telescope, study the heavens, and begin a lifelong journey of discovery.

The universe is vast.

There is room within it for facts, mysteries, telescopes, stardust, and children who refuse to stop looking upward.

Check it out on Amazon!