She searched for something that resembled the man she’d married, but all she recognized were the long, nimble fingers
She’d looked at her mother wonderingly. For Rivka’s wedding, Chava had worn an outdated brown gown from the local gemach, yet this tiny baby deserved something new when she didn’t even know the difference?
But she’d been too delighted to question her mother then.
She spent a fair amount of time in the boutique, fingering the soft cottons and admiring the delicate knits in shades of blue and mauve and white, caressing the bonnets and knowing that the crumpled bills in her pocket wouldn’t cover it all.
After all these years, she remembered every detail of that outfit she finally chose. The little embroidered bib with the flowers, the matching bonnet and blanket.
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