A KNOT IS NOT A TANGLE

Seated on their fraying family rug, an Iranian boy and his grandmother set out to weave a new one together.

Upon receiving newly shorn wool from his grandfather, the unnamed child (who narrates) declares that their rug will be the best ever, but Grandma gently tempers his lofty expectations. They wash, card, spin, and dye the wool with indigo, madder, and larkspur, then graph patterns that resemble tiles and palace gardens common to Isfahan, where they live. When the boy insists on flawless design, Grandma points to their current rug: It may be faded, but it’s long been a place where family gathers. At the loom, she tells him that all rugs—whether a king’s jeweled rug or one that's old and faded—reflect practicality and purpose. She deliberately pulls out one knot—the “Persian flaw”—explaining that nothing is perfect or should pretend to be. Understanding dawns as the boy takes their finished rug for washing and respectfully places the old one under the loom. Nayeri’s quietly meditative narrative about finding grace in life’s inherent flaws unfolds beautifully, speaking both to the perils of perfectionism and the power of embracing heritage. Stamper’s mottled and muted illustrations reinforce the message while adding a sense of time and place. Recurring objects like the samovar, plants, and patterns show purposeful utility and reflect the family’s interconnectedness to land and living culture.

A tender celebration of tradition, family bonds, and the beauty of imperfection.