An immigrant grandmother and her grandchild sow family history alongside newly planted flowers.
Nana and the young narrator are planting a new crop of geraniums. The protagonist loves packing dirt with the yellow shovel, but nothing’s better than hearing Nana tell stories of her childhood garden “back home.” As the narrator waters and helps plant new blooms, Nana describes cypress trees that looked like soldiers, flowers that smelled like perfume, a hedgehog that, after being thrown into the water by Nana’s friend, turned out to be a good swimmer, and the family gardener, who gave her rides in a wheelbarrow. Nana pensively reminisces about her family samovar, prompting the protagonist to ask what happened to Nana’s garden. Cryptically, Nana replies, “We had to leave it…When we moved to this country, it was time to plant a whole new garden.” Though the author and illustrator both discuss their Persian heritage in the backmatter, the narrative itself never states where Nana is from or why she can’t return; children may be left confused. Still, this tale deftly invokes the delight of growing something new while preserving old memories and traditions. Amber-toned illustrations and lyrical, child-friendly text paint a poetic picture of both the present and the past. Nana and the child are tan-skinned.
Beautiful though potentially perplexing musings on immigration, family, and home.
(Picture book. 3-8)