‘Here comes the princess, always dressed for a ball,’ the nurse affectionately said to my grandmother-in-law as we passed in the corridors of the Montefiore Jewish nursing home. Mindla (pronounced Marnya) Horowitz. The Princess of Montefiore. Her hair always perfectly set. Her lips always painted into a pretty red bow with such precision that Elizabeth Arden couldn’t have done them better herself.
Victory Red her favourite shade.
We headed into the dining room, where my husband was waiting. ‘You’re getting fatty,’ she teased him, poking a manicured finger into his belly, ‘but look at me, still bewdiful!’ The diamanté clip in her hair shimmered as she turned her head to be admired. My husband and I often joked that Nanna’s hearing might go or her eyesight fade, but vanity would be the last thing to leave her before she died.
It really wasn’t vanity, though; it was dignity, the rawest essence of humanity, which she held on to with all her being. It was her way of saying to the world, ‘You’ve taken everything, but you will never take my pride.’
This book has mein tears all the time. It is a MUST READ. My family is Polish and while I’m not sure I have Jewish family ( though it’s possible) I have felt so moved by this story. It’s beautifully written. Thank you for giving this story life❤️