ROSE BY THE SEA

Having lost their parents in the Armenian genocide, two sisters must make their way to safety.

“Rose is the flower by our kitchen door…Rose is what my parents call me, too: Dzovinar, their rose by the sea.” So begins this poignant immigration story that uses colors as touchstones—a masterly metaphor that makes a devastating history comprehensible to a young audience. “Brown is the soldier’s boot print on our front door” introduces a section on Rose’s parents’ abduction. Black is “the night we cross the desert” and the color of Rose’s father’s warm coat, which she wears to remind herself of him. Gray is “the house at the edge of Adiyaman,” where a Turkish woman hides the sisters, making it possible for the girls to catch a boat to Marseilles and eventually reach America, where they “paint [their] front door rose, for me and the home we left behind.” In her author’s note, Mooradian briefly discusses the Armenian genocide (1915-1917) and reveals that the book is based on her great-grandmother’s journey. Her choice to omit this information from the main text was a sound one; by skipping historical particulars and dates, this tale of perseverance and abiding humanity takes on a timeless aspect. Yim’s painterly art reflects Rose’s color references and brightens with the girls’ prospects, although the richest illustrations pointedly and poignantly incorporate gloomier hues, reflecting Rose’s determination to remember her past.

An affectingly gentle immigration story set against a pitiless backdrop.