{"product_id":"isabel-in-bloom-isbn-9780593302743","title":"Isabel in Bloom","description":"\u003cb\u003eA girl discovers a connection between her home in the Philippines and her new home in the U.S. through a special garden in this middle grade novel that celebrates nourishment and growth.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTwelve-year-old Isabel is the new kid in her San Francisco middle school. It’s the first time in many years that she’ll be living with her mother again. Mama's job in the US allowed Isabel and her grandparents to live more comfortably in the Philippines, but now Isabel doesn't really know her own mother anymore.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMaking new friends in a new city, a new country, is hard, but joining the gardening and cooking club at school means Isabel will begin to find her way, and maybe she too, will begin to bloom.  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn this beautifully rendered novel-in-verse, Mae Respicio explores how growth can take many forms, offering both the challenges and joy of new beginnings.\"This \u003cb\u003esweet and heartfelt\u003c\/b\u003e novel explores how bumpy beginnings can offer chances for new growth.\" —\u003ci\u003eThe New York Times\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"\u003cb\u003eRespicio examines themes of racism, cultural heritage, and community building\u003c\/b\u003e by focusing on positive occurrences in Isabel’s life, throughout offering solutions that model helpful next steps for readers in similar circumstances.\" —\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\"\u003cb\u003eRespicio’s novel in verse tackles the emotional journey of sacrifice and opportunity\u003c\/b\u003e that many new immigrants experience, as well as the plight of Filipinos living abroad to earn money.\"\u003ci\u003e —Booklist\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"\u003cb\u003eHeartfelt and moving\u003c\/b\u003e.\"\u003ci\u003e \u003ci\u003e—Kirkus Reviews\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\"\u003cb\u003eA touching novel\u003c\/b\u003e....[Respicio] poetically incorporates the experiences and feelings immigrants may have when moving to a new country.\" \u003ci\u003e—School Library Journal\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\"\u003cb\u003eThe novel brings light to unconventional family structures\u003c\/b\u003e and hate crimes against Asian Americans elders.\"\u003ci\u003e \u003ci\u003e—The Horn Book\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/i\u003eMae Respicio writes novels full of hope and heart. Her debut, \u003ci\u003eThe House That Lou Built,\u003c\/i\u003e received the Asian\/Pacific American Library Association Honor Award in Children's Literature and was an NPR Best Book of the Year. She's also the author of the acclaimed \u003ci\u003eAny Day With You\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eHow to Win a Slime War. \u003c\/i\u003eHome\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI walk with my grandfather\u003cbr\u003ethrough\u003cbr\u003e      a thousand shades of green\u003cbr\u003e      plants dressed in dew\u003cbr\u003e      flowers flooded in light\u003cbr\u003e as birds fill the trees with their\u003cbr\u003ewild loud songs.\u003cbr\u003e Our garden \u003cbr\u003ecomes alive \u003cbr\u003ein mornings.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLolo drags a hose\u003cbr\u003e the water trickling slow. \u003cbr\u003eWe pause at a planter of\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJasmine\u003cbr\u003e      Sampaguita.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWeeks ago when I found \u003cbr\u003eout I’d have to say goodbye\u003cbr\u003e he made me plant it\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eSo when you return\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eyou’ll see how it’s grown, \u003c\/i\u003ehe said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJasmine\u003cbr\u003e      Sampaguita\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e takes up most of this space. \u003cbr\u003eRows of shrubs like fences \u003cbr\u003esmall white flowers\u003cbr\u003eperfuming the air with their \u003cbr\u003esweet lush musk.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e But we hover over mine \u003cbr\u003econcerned\u003cbr\u003e leaves wilted\u003cbr\u003e brittle brown stems. \u003cbr\u003eNo blossoms here.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI crouch down.\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e     What’s wrong, little Jazzy?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e      I ask, almost expecting a reply.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePlants respond to humans \u003cbr\u003eour voice, our love.\u003cbr\u003e It’s why I name and talk to some of ours: \u003cbr\u003eElvis Parsley and Vincent van Grow,\u003cbr\u003e my favorite, the Spice Girls\u003cbr\u003e (a cluster of herbs named after \u003cbr\u003ea music group my friends and I\u003cbr\u003e dance to when we play our CDs).\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e     Should I have grown it in the ground? \u003cbr\u003e      Or in a different pot?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e     Or . . . something?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e      I ask my grandfather.\u003cbr\u003e      I don’t know what to do.\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYou should trust.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eIt’s just a little thirsty.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJasmine\u003cbr\u003e      Sampaguita\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e has gifted \u003cbr\u003emy family\u003cbr\u003e our livelihood\u003cbr\u003e by learning the art\u003cbr\u003e of growing and selling.\u003cbr\u003e Its blooms are our survival.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI know its petals \u003cbr\u003esoft and white. \u003cbr\u003eI know its smell \u003cbr\u003ewithout it near\u003cbr\u003e but I don’t know \u003cbr\u003ewhy this one looks \u003cbr\u003ehow I feel\u003cbr\u003e —homesick \u003cbr\u003eheartsick—\u003cbr\u003e when I haven’t even \u003cbr\u003eleft for California yet.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI sigh.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eFeeling nervous for your trip, Isabel?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e      If I don’t like it there, can I come home?\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo my surprise he nods.\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eBut only for visits.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTricked!\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Lolo raises my chin \u003cbr\u003eso our eyes meet.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eSumpa kita\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003esounds like sampaguita. \u003cbr\u003eIt stands for\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003eI promise you. \u003cbr\u003eAnd I promise \u003cbr\u003eyou will do fine\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003ein your new home.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe lays the hose \u003cbr\u003eslips it a drip \u003cbr\u003esaying something \u003cbr\u003eI’ve already heard\u003cbr\u003e many times, my whole life.\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWe bloom \u003cbr\u003ewhere we \u003cbr\u003eare planted.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Don’t Want to Say It\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGoodbyes look like \u003cbr\u003esummer in my small town \u003cbr\u003egreen hills and rice fields\u003cbr\u003e my best friends and I strolling toward home.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGoodbyes sound like\u003cbr\u003e chattering about school and friends \u003cbr\u003ehow next year we all turn thirteen\u003cbr\u003e —though they’ll be here and I’ll be elsewhere.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGoodbyes taste like\u003cbr\u003e tart calamansi from Lolo’s tree \u003cbr\u003eround, small, and green that Lola’s \u003cbr\u003eslicing and squeezing into drinks\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efor me, Cristina, and Rosamie.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Ice clinks \u003cbr\u003eglasses sweat\u003cbr\u003e we take slow sips \u003cbr\u003eand our lips pucker\u003cbr\u003e from the sweet and the sour.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGoodbyes smell like \u003cbr\u003esampaguita flowers \u003cbr\u003eLola’s picked and strung\u003cbr\u003e piled high on the table in soft pearly mounds.\u003cbr\u003e \u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBye, Lola! See you tomorrow, Isabel! \u003c\/i\u003emy friends say.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Lola waves back and drapes \u003cbr\u003ea single jasmine garland\u003cbr\u003e around my neck the way she does \u003cbr\u003ewith each fresh batch.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eGoodbye is \u003cbr\u003eLola’s sad smile \u003cbr\u003ethe waning sun\u003cbr\u003e that citrus still on my tongue \u003cbr\u003ethese white blooms near my heart \u003cbr\u003eher warm hand on my cheek \u003cbr\u003eknowing how much\u003cbr\u003eI already hate saying \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003egoodbye.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003eMe, Isabel Ligaya, Age Twelve \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e      I’ve never lived in a city\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’ve never seen snow\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e      I’ve never been rich\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI’ve never had a mother take me to a mall.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e      I’ve never left the Philippines \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eor ridden in an airplane\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e      or wanted to make new best friends \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebecause\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e      I love the ones I already have.","brand":"Yearling","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46304664649957,"sku":"NP9780593302743","price":8.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780593302743.jpg?v=1767730206","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/isabel-in-bloom-isbn-9780593302743","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}