حَدِيقَة جَدَّتِي
My Grandma's Garden
A Hayya Beena Naqraa story · Tier 2 · For ages 7–9
Cover page
حَدِيقَة جَدَّتِي
My Grandma's Garden
🎨 Illustration prompt
A small Levantine terrace garden on a sunlit balcony, full of clay pots and tin cans repurposed as planters. Mint, parsley, and a climbing jasmine vine spill over the railing. An older woman in a soft housedress stands beside a young child (around 7-8, dark curly hair), pointing gently at one of the herb pots. Behind them, the rooftops of a small Levantine town and distant hills. Warm afternoon light, terracotta and green tones. Watercolor style. No text in the image.
Page 1
كُلَّ صَيْفٍ، أَزُورُ تيتا فِي بَيْتِها الصَّغِير. عِنْدَها حَدِيقَةٌ صَغِيرَةٌ فَوْقَ السَّطْح. تَقُولُ تيتا: "تَعَالِي، أُرِيدُ أَنْ أُرِيَكِ شَيْئًا."
Every summer, I visit Teta at her little house. She has a small garden up on the rooftop. Teta says, "Come, I want to show you something."
🎨 Illustration prompt
A child climbing the last few steps of a narrow stone staircase onto a Levantine rooftop terrace. Teta waits at the top, smiling, one hand reaching out gently. The terrace is bright with pots of green herbs and a low railing. Blue sky and a few clay-tile rooftops in the background. Warm light pours over the scene. Watercolor style. No text in the image.
Page 2
تُمْسِكُ تيتا يَدِي وَتَأْخُذُنِي إِلَى أَوَّلِ نَبْتَة. أَوْرَاقُها صَغِيرَةٌ وَخَضْرَاء. تَقُولُ: "هَذَا نَعْنَع."
Teta takes my hand and leads me to the first plant. Its leaves are small and green. She says, "This is mint."
🎨 Illustration prompt
Close-up of Teta's wrinkled hand and the child's smaller hand together, just above a clay pot bursting with fresh mint leaves. The leaves are vivid green, with tiny droplets of water on them. Soft morning light. The background is gently blurred — other pots and the terrace railing. Watercolor style. No text in the image.
Page 3
أَفْرُكُ وَرَقَةً صَغِيرَةً بَيْنَ أَصَابِعِي. أَرْفَعُها إِلَى أَنْفِي. الرَّائِحَةُ بَارِدَةٌ وَجَمِيلَة، مِثْلَ الشَّاي عِنْدَ تيتا.
I rub a tiny leaf between my fingers. I lift it to my nose. The smell is cool and beautiful, like Teta's tea.
🎨 Illustration prompt
A close-up watercolor of the child's face, eyes closed in gentle delight, holding a small crushed mint leaf right under their nose. A few specks of green on their fingertips. Soft sunlight catches the side of their cheek. In the blurred background, a glass of tea on a small metal tray on the terrace floor. Watercolor style. No text in the image.
Page 4
ثُمَّ تُشِيرُ تيتا إِلَى نَبْتَةٍ أُخْرَى بِأَوْرَاقٍ مُجَعَّدَة. "هَذَا بَقْدُونِس،" تَقُولُ. تَقْطِفُ قِطْعَةً صَغِيرَةً وَتَضَعُها فِي يَدِي.
Then Teta points to another plant with curly leaves. "This is parsley," she says. She picks a small piece and places it in my hand.
🎨 Illustration prompt
Teta's hand carefully placing a sprig of curly parsley into a child's open palm. Both hands are framed against the background of a clay pot full of bright green parsley. The child's fingers are slightly cupped, receiving the gift. Soft natural light. Watercolor style. No text in the image.
Page 5
أَضَعُ قِطْعَةً صَغِيرَةً عَلَى لِسَانِي. طَعْمُها طَازِجٌ وَأَخْضَر. تَضْحَكُ تيتا وَتَقُول: "هَذَا طَعْمُ الصَّيْف."
I put a tiny piece on my tongue. It tastes fresh and green. Teta laughs and says, "That is the taste of summer."
🎨 Illustration prompt
The child's face in profile, scrunched in a curious half-smile as they taste a small piece of parsley. Teta stands beside them, laughing warmly, one hand on her own cheek. The terrace and a few pots blur softly in the background. The mood is intimate, full of small joy. Watercolor style. No text in the image.
Page 6
فِي الزَّاوِيَةِ، تَتَسَلَّقُ نَبْتَةٌ طَوِيلَةٌ عَلَى الحَائِط. عَلَيْها أَزْهَارٌ بَيْضَاءُ صَغِيرَة. تَهْمِسُ تيتا: "هَذَا اليَاسْمِين. شُمِّيهِ بِهُدُوء."
In the corner, a tall plant climbs up the wall. It has small white flowers. Teta whispers, "This is jasmine. Smell it quietly."
🎨 Illustration prompt
A jasmine vine climbing up a pale stone wall on the terrace, dotted with delicate white star-shaped flowers and dark green leaves. The child stands on tiptoe, leaning close to one of the flowers, eyes wide. Teta stands a half-step behind, watching softly. Late afternoon light, the wall almost glowing. Watercolor style. No text in the image.
Page 7
أُغْمِضُ عَيْنَيَّ وَأَتَنَفَّس. الرَّائِحَةُ حُلْوَة، حُلْوَة، حُلْوَة. أُرِيدُ أَنْ أَحْفَظَها فِي قَلْبِي إِلَى الأَبَد.
I close my eyes and breathe. The smell is sweet, sweet, sweet. I want to keep it in my heart forever.
🎨 Illustration prompt
A close-up watercolor of the child's face, eyes closed, with a single jasmine blossom near their cheek. A soft expression of pure happiness. The background dissolves into a wash of pale white-and-green. The illustration feels almost like a held breath. Watercolor style. No text in the image.
Page 8
عَلَى الأَرْضِ، أَرَى وَرْدَةً سَقَطَتْ مِنْ نَبْتَةٍ صَغِيرَة. وَرَقَةٌ وَاحِدَةٌ حَمْرَاءُ نَاعِمَة. أَلْتَقِطُها بِرِفْقٍ وَأَضَعُها فِي جَيْبِي.
On the ground, I see a rose that fell from a small plant. One soft red petal. I pick it up gently and put it in my pocket.
🎨 Illustration prompt
A close-up of the terrace floor — terracotta tiles — with a single deep-red rose petal lying alone. A small child's hand reaches down to pick it up with great care, fingertips barely touching it. The petal looks almost like a tiny piece of velvet. Soft light from above. Watercolor style. No text in the image.
Page 9
فِي اللَّيْلِ، أَعُودُ إِلَى بَيْتِي. أُخْرِجُ الوَرْدَةَ مِنْ جَيْبِي وَأَضَعُها عَلَى وِسَادَتِي. لَا تَزَالُ تَحْمِلُ رَائِحَةَ حَدِيقَةِ تيتا.
At night, I come home. I take the petal out of my pocket and place it on my pillow. It still carries the smell of Teta's garden.
🎨 Illustration prompt
A small bedroom at night — soft blue-purple shadows, a single warm bedside lamp glowing. The child is in pajamas, leaning over their pillow, gently placing the red rose petal on the white pillowcase. Their expression is tender and far-away, remembering. A small window shows a sliver of moon. Watercolor style. No text in the image.
Page 10
أُغْمِضُ عَيْنَيَّ. أَشُمُّ النَّعْنَع، وَالبَقْدُونِس، وَاليَاسْمِين. أَشُمُّ تيتا.
I close my eyes. I smell the mint, the parsley, and the jasmine. I smell Teta.
🎨 Illustration prompt
The child asleep, cheek resting beside the red rose petal on the white pillow. A peaceful, slightly smiling face. Around them, very softly painted (almost like a dream), the ghostly outlines of mint leaves, parsley, jasmine flowers, and Teta's smiling face — all floating gently in the air above the bed. Soft moonlight blue with warm pink touches. The emotional heart of the book. Watercolor style. No text in the image.
كَلِمَاتٌ جَدِيدَة · New Words
| Arabic | How to say it | English |
|---|---|---|
حَدِيقَة |
ha-dī-qah | garden |
جَدَّة · تيتا |
jad-dah · te-ta | grandmother (MSA · Levantine) |
نَعْنَع |
naʿ-naʿ | mint |
بَقْدُونِس |
baq-dū-nis | parsley |
يَاسْمِين |
yās-mīn | jasmine |
وَرْدَة |
war-dah | rose |
رَائِحَة |
rā-ʾi-ḥah | smell |
أَخْضَر |
akh-ḍar | green |
جَيْب |
jayb |
🗣️ Talk about it
These are not test questions — they're conversation starters. Pick one, ask, listen.
The child in this story keeps a single rose petal in their pocket. Have you ever saved something small to remember a person or a place? What was it?
Teta calls parsley "the taste of summer." What is a taste or smell that reminds you of someone you love? A grandmother, a parent, an aunt, a friend?
The garden is on a rooftop — a small space. What plants would you grow if you had your own little garden? Where would you put it?
✏️ Try it
Pick one:
- Smell something green. Find a leaf — basil, mint, parsley, even a houseplant. Rub it gently between your fingers and breathe in. What does it remind you of?
- Save something small. A leaf, a petal, a feather. Press it between the pages of a book. Look at it again in a week.
- Ask someone in your family what herbs or flowers their grandmother grew. Write down what they say. Draw one.
A note for grown-ups reading along
This story uses full vowel marks (تَشْكِيل) — by Tier 2, the sentences are a little longer, but each word is still fully marked, so your reader can sound them out. Don't rush. Sounding out is how the alphabet becomes their own.
The plants in this story — mint, parsley, jasmine, roses — are the real plants that grow on real Levantine balconies and rooftops, from Beirut to Amman, from Damascus to Nablus. If you have access to any of these (even just a grocery-store bunch of parsley), bring one out while you read. Let your child smell it. Memory in childhood is built through the nose as much as the eyes.
Read this book again next week. And the week after. The Arabic words will start to feel like old friends.
— Hayya Beena Naqraa (هَيَّا بِنَا نَقْرَأ)