"The light wished that it was brighter.
The dream wished it was longer.
The clock wished
it was slower."
It has taken me a while, and a lot of readings, to know what I wanted to say about this moving account that describes a refugee's flight from her home in Vietnam to safety. In a series of 'wishes', the author shares how 12 inanimate objects describe the harrowing journey made.
The family is busy secretly preparing while the child watches. Her dog offers comfort. Their bags packed, the children are dressed in the darkness of night, and final goodbyes are made. The path is long, wishing it were shorter; the boat is small for its desperate passengers,wishing it were bigger; and the sea wishes it were calm.
Every part of the journey for the refugees is fraught with worry, and great sadness. The mother and her three young children cling to one another, teary and frightened. The days are long and perilous. When they are finally rescued by the Coast Guard, there is HOPE. Only then is the child given a voice:
"And I wished ...
I didn't have
to wish ...
anymore."
While the text is emotional and spare, the superb illustrations are filled with the intensity and trauma of each terrifying moment of the journey undertaken. There is no welcoming sunlight until their boat reaches safe waters. Remarkable, and forever etched in memory.
In back matter, both author and illustrator provide an explanatory note. The author tells of her own family's escape and the voyage they made. She concludes with a wish that people find it in their hearts to help:
"More refugees are made every day, not only from local violence and persecution, but increasingly from catastrophic natural disasters and climate change effects. It is not always easy to decide whom to help and when. But I think it is easy to open our hearts and to do what we can when we can."
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