``My grandmother saw the emperor cry the day he lost his golden dragon throne,'' begins a young Vietnamese-American, whose lyrical narrative tells how the girl took a seed from the Imperial garden to remember the emperor by, then kept it as a talisman of hope through all the events of her life—marriage, raising her children alone after her husband went to war, crossing the sea in a flimsy boat, making a new life in America. When her little grandson takes the seed and plants it without remembering where, ``BÖ'' is deeply distressed. But the seed isn't lost—it comes up and blooms in the spring, a symbol of renewal: ``No matter how ugly the mud or how long the seed lays [sic] dormant, the bloom will be beautiful. It is the flower of my country,'' says BÖ—and now there are new seeds for the next generation to treasure. The Japanese illustrator debuts with spare, formally composed paintings reflecting the quiet mood and elegiac tone. A thoughtful, beautifully designed book that will find a place in many discussions. Historical note. (Picture book. 5-10)