"The bigger one said they were lucky.
They could have lost even more.
Yet they had nothing.
Or almost nothing.
Nothing left from before,
except each other.
The little one didn't think about that for long.
But the bigger one did.
She couldn't help it."
The title page shows a dark, moonlit night and a boat floating on a black sea. We soon discover there are only two survivors aboard: two children, one little and one bigger. The bigger one had worried for their lives. Yet, survive they did. Rescuers were quick to help, to do what they could do.
The little one remembered nothing. The bigger one was able to tell their story. They were given shelter, food, and not much else. Now safe in the refugee camp, the little one found solace and growing strength in being outside and playing with other children. The bigger sat inside and continued worrying. She could not forget what had happened. She hid away from all the others. Concerned, the little one brought her a butterfly. The butterfly, despite its panic to be free, would not leave. The bigger one suggested space and time.
Finally, the butterfly calmed. It would not be caught. The little one worried about the bigger one. Time passed and still she waited inside with the butterfly for company. She could not make the butterfly leave. One day, she took it outside in an attempt to finally set it free.
"The butterfly didn't look back.
She wished she didn't have to look back,
but memories and shadows called
from the dark safety in the broken house."
Now outside, the little one called to her. It was time, and for that day she was ready.
Mixed-media artwork clearly conveys the feelings and uncertainties that plague the bigger one, and the joy and hope that bring bright color to the little one's existence. Gill Smith's endpapers move from barbed-wire fencing beneath a cloudy sky and one dandelion to the same scene in bright sunlight, many more dandelions (resilience), and a gracefully floating butterfly. Just right!
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