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Tilburg

Together they bend down over the book. “Look at that penguin!” Helga had lost interest a while ago, but Ans was firmly set on crocheting her fifth grandchild an animal, just like she did the others. The first two had cherished them. Her son wasn’t the type to spoil his kids, you could tell by the way they responded to gifts and toys. Her daughters’ kids were raised differently, their animals were probably buried in a toy box somewhere. She didn’t care, the gesture of giving was most important to her. Helga never understood. “Those kids lose interest after two days and you spend months working them.” She smiled to herself. The effort was her way of welcoming these babies on earth.