My Baba's Garden

‘My Baba lives in a chicken coop beside a motorway, behind a sulphur mill shaped like an Egyptian pyramid, bright yellow like a sun that never goes to sleep…’

With this wonderfully vivid and specific sentence, the poet Jordan Scott grabs our attention and tells us that attending to this picturebook will be worthwhile. Who wouldn’t be intrigued by such a house, in such a place? But already we sense more complex undertones: this is a thoughtful tribute to a real person who led a hard life and found her own way to flourish. Sydney Smith’s arresting illustrations are wholly in tune with the text, and bring the relationship between Scott and his Polish grandmother to life in ways that speak to readers of all ages. My Baba’s Garden is a book for intergenerational sharing and much more besides.

In keeping with the location of her house, the world that Baba creates around herself is endearingly unusual. Baba didn’t express herself fluently in English, but she didn’t need words to communicate what was in her heart. We come to know her, as Scott does, through her absorption in food – the growing of it, the preserving and cooking of it, and above all, her focus on ensuring that the boy she loves eats well.  Seen through a child’s eyes, Baba’s eccentricities shine brightly – on rainy days, she’s an avid collector of worms for her garden – and as she grows older and needs more support, Scott learns to be with her, slowly and mindfully, in ways that bring them joy.

Although the young Scott doesn’t fully understand, he senses that food matters to his Baba in a different way. He won’t discover until later that her family experienced great suffering in WWII (and this information isn’t shared directly in the text) but the knowledge informs every aspect of this book, and adds much depth.

Dark painted lines and stunning bursts of light feature in Smith’s tender, luminous artwork, and every image is an impressionistic microcosm of action and emotion. Unusual viewpoints draw us in: we’re able to peer over Scott’s shoulder as his dad drives the car, or gaze child-height through an open kitchen door, and the illustrations of Baba’s interactions with her grandson leave a warm glow, even in the rain.

Easy to read and enjoy at a glance, these spreads also reward closer, more contemplative looking, making this a book with much to unpack, and one that will continue to deliver new experiences as children grow. For adults – or those who’ve lost loved ones – the intensity of the feelings it evokes may be almost overwhelming. But there is such compassion here, and such appreciation of the small, important moments in our lives, that looking at these images and reading these words is always lightened by a sense of continuity and hope.

As a moving testament to the resilience of the human spirit and enduring love, My Baba’s Garden is perfect for sharing within families. It also makes a great focus for creative projects with older readers about family and memory, about how we interact with our environment and what matters in our lives.

An autobiographical note at the beginning of My Baba’s Garden supplies background information about Scott’s Polish grandparents, who survived WWII before emigrating to Canada.