Sarabeth’s Garage – written by Melanie Florence, illustrated by Nadia Alam
Tundra Books, 2026

Books about grandparents and grandchildren fill a special role.  Children’s books that emphasize the right for girls to push boundaries and find their place in the world, without regard to restrictive gender norms, are also promising. Of course, literary and artistic excellence are never superseded by ideology. In Melanie Florence and Nadia Alam’s picture book, Sarabeth’s Garage, a lively text and expressive pictures show a believable child pushing back against the expectations of her beloved grandmother.  By the end of the story, love and loyalty strengthen their relationship.

There are picture books that create an entire world peopled by the main characters as well as secondary ones, and all the essential items that make them seem real. This is one of those books.  Sarabeth’s family is bicultural; her father and grandmother are of South Asian ancestry.  Their background is not directly addressed, but it is implicit in some of the values that her grandmother holds, although it is never claimed that her ideas are exclusive attributable to her age or ethnicity. (“In my day, little girls played with dolls, not cars and trucks.”) This is not one of those books. It’s a book about individuals and context, woven together.

The book opens with an essential fact: “Sarabeth loved cars.” The richness of Alam’s illustrations draws the reader’s attention to so many elements. Sarabeth’s bright red apron has a brush and pencil sitting in its pockets. She is wearing beaded bracelets, and has a band aid on her arms. Gripping a pliers, Sarabeth works on a contraption, maybe a design for a vehicle. All the objects on her worktable are carefully composed against their white background. A tape measure is partly extended. Cookies on a plate have bites taken out of them; pencils and tools seem to be pointing towards one another. The scene captures the process of creation.

Metaphors are part of Sarabeth’s imagination, as in a scene where she compares cars and their engines to animals in motion. But one person, ironically, slowing her down, is the family matriarch, Grandma. Sarabeth’s parents are fully supportive of her dreams. Her mother, curled up on the sofa with a book, one hand on her beautifully pregnant belly, is proud of her daughter’s skills. Sarabeth’s father, a mechanic, is her role model.  They even wear matching blue coveralls while working in his shop. Grandma is important to Sarabeth; she cannot simply ignore the older woman’s stern statements.  The assumption that these prejudices are based on a lack of understanding is reasonable, but Grandma believes that Sarabeth is the one who does not understand.

The two-page spread of their complete family shows both togetherness and independence.  Dad and Grandma sit close together. Mom, curled up on the sofa with a book, one hand on her beautifully pregnant belly, is absorbed in her reading.  Sarabeth’s brother is completing his math homework, and she herself is constructing a cardboard mock-up of an invention.  Their dog is asleep at her side, and other accessories; a cup of tea, a set of paints; reflect the fact that conflict over Sarabeth’s passion for cars exists alongside other aspects of their home life. A poignant picture of Sarabeth trying to scrub the industrial dirt off herself indicates that she is trying to accommodate herself, to some degree, to her grandmother’s expectations. Pink and blue bubbles float above the tiles. She is standing on tiptoe, wearing one white sock. But her face is still marked by the grease spots of her future profession.

One difference between this book and some others about grandchildren and grandparents is its honesty about friction.  A family dinner indicates visually that generational differences are not easily bridged. (image) A vase of flowers sits in the center of the table, but Sarabeth and her grandmother are both frowning intently.  Mom tries to diffuse the situation by minimizing the importance of “a little grease stain.” But Grandma is not inflexible. When a problem with her car, which she avidly still drives, leads her to need help, she knows where to find it. This outcome is not improbable.  Grandma’s apparent stubbornness is part of her strength. When Sarabeth gently reminds her that “in my day, girls can do anything they want, Grandma,” there is no sense of disrespect, or even triumph. Her car is up and running again, “and she revved the engine softly to make it purr like a kitten.”  Now the two of them share a metaphor.