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Fruma's Hand-Me-Down Coat

Ages 6-9 | Story and 9 activities

Fruma's winter coat is purple, a little faded, and two sizes too big.

It has belonged to her cousin Rivka, then to her cousin Chana, and now it hangs in Fruma's closet with the tags long gone. The sleeves come down past her fingers. The hem touches her knees.

"It's just for this year," says Mommy. "You'll grow."

Fruma takes the coat down and puts it on. She looks in the mirror. She looks like a small purple tent.

At school the next day, she wears it to recess. Tzivia, a girl in her class, wears a bright pink puffy coat, brand new, with a fuzzy hood.

"Cute," says Tzivia, looking at the sleeves. "Is it your sister's?"

"My cousin's," says Fruma.

"Oh." Tzivia raises her eyebrows. "It looks old."

Fruma's cheeks go hot. She tugs the sleeves down over her hands. She feels like she wants to shrink inside the coat, all the way down to her shoes.

At home, she throws the coat on her bed. "I don't like it. It's ugly."

Mommy sits beside her. "Tell me what happened."

Fruma tells her. Mommy listens with her head tilted.

"That must have hurt," she says. "I'm sorry she said that."

"Why can't I have a pink one? Why do I always get used things?"

Mommy takes a deep breath. "I'll tell you something. That coat has a story. Do you know what it did before it got to you?"

"No."

"It went with your cousin Rivka on a trip to the mountains. She wore it on the first day of snow, and she told me she felt like a princess in it. Then Chana wore it when she visited Eretz Yisroel, and it kept her warm on a very cold night in Yerushalayim. Every girl who wore it said it was the coziest coat she ever had."

Fruma looks at the sleeve. It has a tiny hole near the cuff. Maybe from a snowy day. She runs her finger over it.

"Really?"

"Really. And Fruma, you can make it yours. We could sew on a patch, or put a little flower on the pocket."

"A flower?"

"Anything you want."

Fruma's eyes brighten. "Can I pick the flower?"

They go to the fabric store that weekend. Fruma chooses a yellow one, shaped like a daisy. Mommy sews it onto the pocket, and they hem the sleeves so they end at Fruma's wrists.

"Try it now," says Mommy.

Fruma slips it on. The sleeves fit. The yellow flower looks like a tiny sun on the purple.

She looks in the mirror. She doesn't see a tent. She sees a girl in a bright purple coat that is just a little bit magical.

On Monday, Tzivia stops her at the door. "Your coat is different today. I like the flower."

"Thanks," says Fruma, and she isn't even surprised. "It's got a lot of history."

At recess, a first-grade girl runs up and says, "I want a coat like that!"

Fruma grins. She's already decided that when she grows out of it, she will pass it along. And she'll sew a new flower on the other pocket, a red one, for the next girl.