Based on the author's own family history, here is a moving story about a young girl from two different backgrounds. The girl's mother...

Based on the author's own family history, here is a moving story about a young girl from two different backgrounds. The girl's mother tells her stories about her mother, a Jewish seamstress in Brooklyn, New York. She lived in a tiny two-bedroom apartment and sewed wedding dresses shimmering in satin and lace.

Her father tells stories of his mother, the girl's other grandmother, who liked to cook bubbling dal on a coal stove in Pakistan. They tell stories about how both sides came to America, and how, eventually, her parents met on a warm summer evening in Poughkeepsie.

The girl sometimes feels as if she's the "only one like me." One day, when she spots a butterfly in her yard, she realizes it's okay to be different--no two butterflies are alike, after all. It's okay to feel alone sometimes, but also happy and proud. It's okay to feel-- and be-- many things at once.