Wim Bakker
My mother's hands were rough from working in the stable. But when she tucked me in at night they felt soft and smelled of soap.
◆ A recognition
They never met.
They shared this.
Tell me something about your mother's hands. The smell, the shape, what they did.
Greta Schmidt
My mother's hands smelled of soap and flour, sometimes of the garden — of earth and herbs. When she tucked me in at night, her scent stayed on the pillow.
Two voices. One memory. Recorded 0 days apart.