HOME IN A LUNCHBOX

When a young Chinese girl moves to a country where she doesn’t speak the language, her lunchbox holds all the comforts of home—and offers an opportunity for friendship.

The story begins in the book’s endpapers as the cityscape of Hong Kong on the left blends cleverly into a suburban American street on the right. Jun happily sets off for school. She knows just a handful of English phrases (she’s scrawled several words and their Cantonese translations onto her hand), and her big smile disappears as the day progresses, the colors fading from her world as she struggles to communicate. But when she opens her lunchbox in the cafeteria, she finds herself surrounded by vibrantly depicted memories, and her smile returns. Each school day’s loneliness is punctuated by the joy of lunchtime, and by the following week, a few classmates, and Jun herself, become brave enough to use food as an opening for friendship. Mo relies on both full-page illustrations and comiclike panels; apart from minimal dialogue presented in speech bubbles, it’s a mostly wordless tale. Similar in theme and structure to Young Vo’s Gibberish (2022), the narrative charts its protagonist’s emotional state through color, composition, body language, and visual detail. Round-faced, endearing Jun is utterly expressive; her sadness upon returning home each day is especially palpable. Jun’s community is a diverse one.

A touching immigrant story that hits the heart—and stomach.