Description A quiet yet radiant bond forged between a grandmother and her grandchild! The child leaves home before dawn, because every morning Dad drives them to Grandma's house before heading to work. Though it's early, the roads are already busy with cars. The child gazes at the scenery beyond the window — the morning sun rising and casting light through the clouds, a mountain ridge that looks like a whale's belly in the lingering darkness, ripples on the morning sea... Even though it's the same road every day, the view is always new. In the child's hands is a drawing — a picture of Baba's little cottage by the highway, and of Baba and the child together. Soon, the child arrives at the cottage in the drawing, the cozy home that the child's Jajdek (Polish for grandfather) built by converting an old chicken coop. The child walks familiarly into the kitchen, where Baba is waiting, making breakfast — dancing between the sink, the fridge, and the oven behind the steam rising from a pot of boiling potatoes. Baba hums a song as she sets out breakfast. The child can't understand the words of the song, but they sound as warm and familiar as crickets chirping in the night. Baba serves the child rice in a bowl so big the child could practically swim in it. If the child ever spills a bit of food, Baba quickly picks it up, kisses it, and puts it back in the bowl. The child finishes every bit of the breakfast Baba has made, remembering Mom's words about how Baba once went through hard times without enough to eat. After breakfast, Baba walks the child to school. Baba's steps are a little slow, but that only means the child gets to take in even more of the passing scenery. On rainy days, Baba walks even more slowly — because she stops to pick up earthworms floating in the rain puddles. She gathers them into a glass jar and releases them into the garden behind the cottage, beneath the tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots, and apple tree. Baba's garden is full of things to see, to smell, to touch, and to hold close in one's heart. The child, too, is one of the living things growing in Baba's garden. But now, Baba no longer lives in the cottage. She spends her days lying in a room at the end of the hallway in the child's house. A large building now stands where the cottage used to be. Now, the child cares for Baba the way Baba once cared for the child — and longs to give Baba back the vitality that once filled her garden. Like a ray of sunshine in an increasingly barren world, In Grandmother's Garden follows I Talk Like a River as another autobiographical story by poet Jordan Scott. Jordan's grandmother, Baba, was born and raised in Poland. She spent her youth in Poland under Nazi and Soviet occupation, and after World War II, immigrated to Canada. There, she settled into an old chicken coop in a seaside town near a sulfur mine. Baba lovingly tended that humble space, breathing life into it so that everything within it could truly live and breathe. In this way, she came to have a garden all her own. Jordan Scott spent much of his childhood in that garden. The grandson, born and raised in Canada, and the grandmother, born and raised in Poland, communicated not through language but through looks, gestures, and expressions, sharing their days and their hearts together. That seemingly simple yet deeply rich everyday life seeped slowly into young Jordan's heart, shaping his outlook on life and giving rise to his poetic language. In Grandmother's Garden is a work born of deep gratitude for that time. Moreover, Sydney Smith's beautiful illustrations carry us all back to Baba's garden, where young Jordan once played. Since these days are already memories even from the boy's own point of view, the scenes depicting daily life with Baba are rendered in muted color. Instead, a light that seems to seep up from deep within the pages colors the boy's memories, warming our hearts down to their very corners — and, further still, planting within us a turning point in life...