Jacob Sager Weinstein and Eliza Wheeler’s picture book opens with a richly detailed view of Vienna in the 1930s. Rosa, a Jewish child living with her parents and grandmother, looks out the window toward the city, unaware of the disaster about to unfold. Her parents own a grocery store, whose shelves of plentiful food suggest that the city’s residents are doing well. What Rosa Brought captures how a child’s sense of security is shattered by hatred and war. As her parents plan their escape, Rosa, who is based on the author’s own mother, comes to learn what has value when everything material is lost.
The understated text reflects Rosa’s feelings of confusion as her neighbors turn against Vienna’s Jews. Rosa’s mother remains a calming voice of reason, reassuring her daughter that the customers at their store will not succumb to prejudice. Her grandmother balances the need to be honest with the obligation to care for a frightened child. When Jewish homes and stores are attacked, the old woman carefully explains that “the Nazis say Jews are bad. Some people believe them.” A picture of their store, now with almost no merchandise, shows a lone Jewish customer picking up a jar, and a black cat stretched out on a nearly empty case of bread. As Rosa’s father desperately tries to obtain visas for the family’s immigration to America, her grandmother must disillusion her with the news that Americans are less than eager to accept Jewish immigrants.
Rosa’s father develops a small business building trunks out of the now worthless wooden shelves in his empty store. When a rabbi approaches him about using one to transport a Torah scroll, Rosa learns another important, if bitter, lesson. The rabbi explains that “ … the Nazis have huge bonfires where they burn books … But the stories of our people and the laws we follow — these I will not let them burn.”
If adults are unsure about what to save and what to leave behind, the dilemma is even more incomprehensible for children. In one image, Rosa opens a trunk and imagines ghostly outlines of objects emerging from it. A lovely dress, a pair of Shabbos candlesticks, and a toy mouse on wheels all capture parts of her life that are precious.
The book’s resolution is heartbreaking: the family obtains a visa that cannot include every member. Rosa is forced to make peace with her loss by believing that her memories will preserve those who do not find refuge in America.
Emily Schneider writes about literature, feminism, and culture for Tablet, The Forward, The Horn Book, and other publications, and writes about children’s books on her blog. She has a Ph.D. in Romance Languages and Literatures.
