Packing away my grandmother’s spectacles I came across this piece of embroidery. My father had obviously packed away her things when she died and gave them to me many years later. But I never really looked closely until now.
I remember this cushion and I always knew she had embroidered it. There were some others but they had disintegrated long ago.
What I hadn’t realised however was that this cushion must have been with her all through deportation to Siberia, then freedom in Iraq and Iran through Palestine and eventually England
What I find even more remarkable is that my father labelled it very carefully. He must have remembered her embroidering it in 1938.
It is in a very sad state now, so I have put it away again. But I shall treasure it all the more now I know a little more of its history.