Note: Device not to scale.
Based on the author's own family history, here is a moving story about a young girl from two different backgrounds. The girl’s mother tells her stories about her mother, a Jewish seamstress in Brooklyn, New York. She lived in a tiny two-bedroom apartment and sewed wedding dresses shimmering in satin and lace.
Her father tells stories of his mother, the girl’s other grandmother, who liked to cook bubbling dal on a coal stove in Pakistan. They tell stories about how both sides came to America, and how, eventually, her parents met on a warm summer evening in Poughkeepsie.
The girl sometimes feels as if she's the “only one like me.” One day, when she spots a butterfly in her yard, she realizes it’s okay to be different—no two butterflies are alike, after all. It’s okay to feel alone sometimes, but also happy and proud. It’s okay to feel-- and be-- many things at once.
