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A story of a blanket

Writer's picture: Nana WarszawskiNana Warszawski

Hold on tight, because this story is gonna take you through a time machine almost 100 years back, through 5 generations of mothers and daughters… Just an ordinary story about a baby blanket in Europe that became a wedding gown in a Kibbutz in Israel on its way to being memory dolls.


Once upon a time there was a young woman who left her family and comfortable life in Europe and traveled to a far away country called Israel, to be a pioneer.


Several years later this young woman had a baby girl and traveled to see her parents back in europe.


When they arrived, her mother gave her a handmade crib blanket, crocheted and embroidered with all the love of a grandmother who misses her granddaughter overseas.


The father of the young woman was sensing the winds of war in the air and urged his daughter to go back to Israel. He himself was planning to wrap up his business and family and follow his daughter to Israel as well.

The young pioneer and her baby girl went back to their Kibbutz in Jezreel Valley, where life wasn't fit for such a delicate white blanket. it was warped well, put aside and kept in a box.

2 weeks after the woman and her baby returned to Israel the Germans invaded Poland, unfortunately the grandparents didn’t get out on time.


The baby girl grew into a young woman, got married and had her own children. When her daughter told her she is getting married she pulled out the old blanket, still well wrapped and offered her to integrate it in her wedding gown. the daughter agreed and the blanket was cut and resewn into the front of the wedding gown and the belt that wrapped it. After the wedding the gown was wrapped and put away for an unknown time. The daughter who wore the wedding gown built her own family, had kids and time passed.








A month ago I received a phone call, on the other side of the line this story was waiting for me.

for a moment I became breathless, the intensity of the story went through me like strong wind.

“The dress is awful” she warned me on the phone “Use only the parts that used to be the blanket” she brought me back to earth.


I couldn't help but imagine a phone call to the great great grandmother who crocheted the blanket, what would she say?












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