This is a backpack handmade by my mother. It is made from an old pair of jeans and has images of clouds and an airplane sewn on it. My mother made it in the late seventies when I was a little girl growing up in the Netherlands. She made it because she enjoyed making crafts, but also because we were immigrating to the United States. I was told to put my most important possessions in it for the journey (at the time my teddy bear and a picture of my Dad who was not able to come with us). It was a difficult process to decide what I would bring, but also what I would have to leave behind. It was not so much the physical objects, as the intangible things, I wanted to bring- the feel of the air in my country, the smell of the forests, my friendships , and an intact family. These things a backpack can't hold. Although I missed my country very much, I was at the same time excited about travelling and experiencing a new place. The backpack reminds me of my mother's love. I see it in her choice of images, and in each of the rough stitches. I cherish it because it was made by my mother, and because of the time of sadness, but also hope, it reminds me of.