The sour cherry tree / written by Naseem Hrab ; illustrated by Nahid Kazemi.
Material type:
TextPublisher: Toronto, Ontario ; Berkeley, California : Owlkids Books, [2021]Copyright date: ©2021Description: 1 volume (unpaged) : color illustrations ; 29 cmContent type: - text
- still image
- unmediated
- volume
- 9781771474146
- 1771474149
| Item type | Home library | Collection | Shelving location | Call number | Materials specified | Status | Date due | Barcode | Item holds | |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
Children's Book
|
Dr. James Carlson Library | Children's Picturebook | Tough Topics | HRAB NASEEM | Available | 33111010642623 | ||||
|
Children's Book
|
Main Library | Children's Picturebook | Tough Topics | HRAB NASEEM | Available | 33111010803555 |
Enhanced descriptions from Syndetics:
A heartwarming look at love, loss, and memorable objects through the eyes of a child by critically-acclaimed creators Naseem Hrab and Nahid Kazemi
"Deeply evocative ... A beautifully poignant celebration of memories of a loved one that live on in those that remain." -- Kirkus Reviews - STARRED REVIEW
After her grandfather's death, a young girl wanders through his house. As she tours each room, the objects she discovers stir memories of her grandfather--her baba bozorg. His closet full of clothes reminds her of the mints he kept in his pockets. His favorite teacup conjures thoughts of the fig cookies he would offer her. The curtains in the living room bring up memories of hide-and-seek games and the special relationship that she and her baba bozorg shared, even though they spoke different languages.
The Sour Cherry Treeis an authentic look at death and loss centred on the experiences of a child, both strikingly whimsical and matter-of-fact. Drawing on the Iranian-Canadian author's childhood memories, this tender meditation on grief, love, and memory is at once culturally specific and universally relatable.
After her grandfather's death, a young girl explores her Baba Bazorg's house. As the girl wanders through the house, almost idly, her Baba Bazorg's house stands in for the man himself, with each object she describes standing as a touchstone to a memory, and each memory serving as a window into the relationship between the child and her grandfather. As she looks through its rooms, the things she sees and the object she touches bring to life memories of the man she knew, and also the man she didn't know.