As a story time host for littles, you always need books about the five senses. Additionally as a story reader at an Islamic school, thanking Allah swt while talking about your senses and the world around us is a staple year after year. So purchasing this book with large adorable pictures and claims of rhyme was an easy decision to make, and while it will get used, sigh, the rhyme and lacking rhythm is terrible. There’s also frequent illogical sentence structures and a bizarre tangent- two pages on wafting. The book is for toddlers through kindergarteners, not kids learning experiment safety protocols. @muslimkidsbooknook did a wonderful Instagram post regarding rhyme in kid’s books, and this book really would have benefitted from some additional editing and outside eyes reading the book aloud repeatedly. That being said, the book will still be used and will be enjoyed with real time editing. A positive about the book, in addition to the illustrations, is Allah (swt) in Arabic script. But overall, it really could have, and should have been so much better.
The book starts with a note to grown ups reminding them to stress the importance of being grateful and exploring God’s creation. It starts with what eyes can be used for, stressing the beauty in nature. and moves to the nose, and has the pages on wafting chemicals, enjoying baked goods, and saying please pardon when passing bad smells.
Tongue is next and stresses that sweets are not nutritious, and then assumes that veggies and fruits are unliked by children, but the narrator admits that they enjoy consuming them. Hands and skin- touch and feel, and also convey love. As an FYI- the text states and illustrations show kids petting a dog. The final sense of ears and the gift of hearing wraps up the book.
I’m terrible at grammar, really bad, but even I know not to say “colors like purple,” it should be colors “such as” purple, not “smells like Teta’s baked cookies,” but smells “such as” Teta’s baked cookies. The formatting on a spread seems off as well with “Like slimy frogs” being under a a two line refrain and the rest of the sentence, “and hairy dogs…” being on the next page with another line and a half, it throws you off when reading aloud to keep some rhyme and rhythm going, every. single. time. On some pages the chopping of normal speech structure to make the “rhyme” is difficult to understand, and I don’t think the glossary, nor putting (God) in English was particularly necessary.
My favorite pages are when they tie directly back to ibadah and Islam, hearing the athan, using your hands to make dua and the little rhyme that starts and concludes the book. Truly the concept makes the book important on a shelf and the illustrations make it attractive, the text needs some editing.
Nadia’s aunt is getting married and she gets to be the flower girl in the Pakistani-American wedding. She also will get mehndi put on her hands for the big event. Her cousins warn her that she might mess up and even in the midst of her excitement she begins to worry what the kids at school will say when they see her hands on Monday. As her aunt prepares the mehndi and the application process begins, various uncles peek in on her and her aunt gifts her a beautiful ring. The mehndi has to sit on the skin for a while to set and as Nadia practices sabr, patience, I couldn’t help but think something seemed off in the story. I’ve been at, in, and around a lot of Pakistani and Pakistani-American weddings, and this story didn’t seem to reflect the tone of such occasions. The book doesn’t reflect the hustle and bustle and near chaos, it doesn’t sound like the tinkle of jewelry and laughter as the women sit around chatting and getting mehndi put on together, the pots on the stove are referenced but not described so that the reader can smell the sauces thickening and hear the pans crashing and taste the deep rich flavors. It is lonely. Nadia is lonely and filled with anxiety about Monday. Durring the wedding she is walking down the aisle and suddenly freezes when she looks down and doesn’t recognize her hands. Her cousins seem to show unsupportive “I-told-you-so” expressions as she searches for some comforting encouragement to continue on. When she finishes her flower girl duties, her grandma asks if she understands why looking at her hands makes her feel like she is “looking at my past and future at the same time.” Nadia doesn’t understand and the author doesn’t explain. At the end she is ready to embrace that her hands are in fact hers and that she will show her friends on Monday. But the reader has no idea how it goes, or what exactly the significance of her painted hands are. The book fails to give any insight or excitement for a culture bursting with tradition at a time of marriage.
Islamic School Librarian 