Sunday, September 10


I got a call from my mother-in-law at about 2 pm, Paris time. I turned on CNN international and saw the horrific images of the first tower. I was describing these scenes over the phone to my husband when the second plane hit. It was a brilliant sunny autumn day and soon it would be time for me to pick up the boys from their French school. Then the Pentagon was hit and there was another plane missing. We had lived in New York and Washington, so our connection to these cities was very deep with old friends in both cities.

Walking back home with the boys, heads turned in sympathy at the sound of our American accents. It was very surreal and time had no measure. Amazingly, all of my friends returned my frantic phone messages very quickly. I really can't say more than that, but as a knitter, please look at this amazing piece. When I think of what every stitch meant to Hila, it breaks my heart and leaves me in awe of her resilience. Our lives will never be the same.

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