HOME IS A DOOR WE CARRY

Two youngsters yearn for the familiar comforts of their respective left-behind homes.

Somewhere in the world, two children, each accompanied by their adult, have “been traveling for a long time—by car, by train, by bus, by ship.” The red-hooded child recalls “a little red house with a garden around it,” while the youngster wearing red glasses remembers a big house “with many doors and many windows.” Both “miss [their] home so much.” Their loss and longing are visceral, and the protagonists imbue their faraway homes with their own emotions—fear, loneliness, hurt—while imagining their houses as moving, living creatures, both sanctuary and protector. Nurturing care is mutual, and the children vow to provide ice for bruises and bandages for any scratches their houses may suffer during flight. As their journeys overlap, “when we reach a safe place,” the children hope to be “neighbors… [to] make a new home together.” Moscow-born author/artist Satüpo, who now lives in Berlin, creates vibrant spreads, favoring earthy tones, combining naïve drawings with textured cutouts, and collaging with childlike simplicity. Writing in unadorned prose, he captures the ubiquitous plight of children fleeing natural disasters, socioeconomic uncertainty, political upheaval, and—far too often—war. Fifty million kids, he notes, were displaced in 2024; kindness, he reminds us, can create welcoming safety. Both children here have light skin, but other characters are diverse.

Deftly captures the challenging uncertainty of leaving home and the eventual hope of belonging.