I washed the body and combed the hair of my child, for the long deserted road. And I gave her an advice: - Your hands in your pockets. Do not harm anyone. And I also gave her a charm. I dressed her with my love. And I told her:

​

- Go. And you will stop in that village, in which their dresses match yours. Let not bright ornaments mislead you to stay anywhere else, however tired you may be.

Walk. And even if your village is far away, it exists. You will find it.

​

And my child left. And, like a magnet, in every area her dress attracted the strangers who had the same uniform. And they followed her, wherever she went.

​

But now, what reason is there for her to stop. Many are waiting for her. And, also, the village that has the same dresses is with her.

The road is full.         

December 5, 1957