Noémie Hollemechette: Journal d'une petite réfugiée belge

A bright‑sketched diary opens with ten‑year‑old Noémie’s excitement for a seaside holiday to Heyst, a simple promise of sand, shells and playful afternoons. Her mother encourages her to record every delight, while her family’s bustling preparations—new notebooks, sewn dresses, a treasured pink‑covered library of stories—add a warm, homey texture to the pages. Through Noémie’s eyes, the reader tastes the everyday charms of childhood: planting tiny gardens, sharing dolls, and the chatter of cousins and cousins‑in‑law gathering for the trip.

Yet the cheerful routine subtly hints at an undercurrent of uncertainty. The diary’s first entries are set just before the summer of 1914, when the looming clouds of war begin to stir the quiet streets of Louvain. As Noémie’s pen captures the carefree moments, the impending upheaval promises to turn this innocent vacation into a poignant tale of displacement, resilience, and the small comforts that help a young refugee hold onto her sense of self.