"Not being able to hear must be amazing—there's so much you can see instead. Being able to hear must mean you can only see a little." A book that offers a fresh perspective on disability, presenting the right values for how to relate to friends with disabilities. What Does It Feel Like? shows that having a disability isn't only about hardship and sadness—that a richer world of senses opens up when you can't see or can't hear, and that everyone develops different abilities depending on their own circumstances. This idea connects closely with the "disability experience" activities often used in education to help children understand friends with disabilities. The book conveys that caring for others isn't about pity or sympathy, but about trying to see things from their point of view. It raises questions not only about how we treat friends with disabilities, but about how we treat everyone around us. The quiet, honest thoughts of the main character—both alone and in conversation with friends—unfold without exaggeration or drama, leaving a gentle, lasting impression. The illustrations may look simple at first, without elaborate backgrounds, but the characters facing forward and the inventive ways the senses are depicted draw you in the more you look. From Japanese reader reviews: _ A book that awakens the senses and broadens the imagination. In a way, it's a book that carries even greater meaning for today's children and adults who live with their own forms of "disability," as well as for those without disabilities. _ The main character's heart is remarkably open and warm. Through this experience, she comes to accept a world she never knew before—surprising, yet natural. _ A story that invites us to wonder: What does it feel like not to see? What does it feel like not to hear? Trying to imagine another person's experience is deeply important. It seems that today, not just children but adults, too, often lack this kind of imagination. Author's Note: I met a wonderful girl with a bright, ready smile. She was full of ambition, eager to go to college to study what she loved. She sits in an electric wheelchair. The only parts of her body she can move are her fingertips, her eyes, and her mouth. She has an illness with a difficult name I'd never heard before, one that gradually takes away more and more of her ability to move. It's said that in all of Japan, only about three people have this rare and difficult-to-treat condition. After meeting her and talking with her, I found myself thinking about many things—about friends with disabilities, about friends without disabilities, and about myself. I realized that everyone carries some kind of unavoidable hardship. And yet, we can live. Together, we can live. She made me think about so much, and from those thoughts, this book was born. I hope that the story of Hiro and her friends will share these thoughts with all of you.