My Name is Yehudit Cohen, I immigrated to Israel from Turkey on March 15, 1949; I was seven then. We were six children, together with the two parents, blessed be their memory; we arrived at Beit Lid transit camp (ma'abara). We left a house full of good things in Istanbul, Turkey. I haven't forgotten a thing.

From Beit Lid they moved us to Ness Ziona, where I went to school (everybody in one class, regardless of age). At eighteen I joined the army; I served in Palmahim as a lone soldier in the Nahal brigade. I was a seamstress in Palmahim. I still a seamstress I met a tourist from Turkey. We got married and he also immigrated.

When I first gave birth I was pregnant with twins, in 1962. It was on October 14 when I went to Kaplan Hospital. On the 15th I gave birth to two sons, everybody was happy. They were healthy, beautiful. They cried and they stayed with me all night. The next morning they took me for recovery with a few other women. The women received their babies. I did not.

My father, and my husband who didn't speak any Hebrew, arrived. I told them to get me the kids so I can feed them. I was going crazy from the pain of the milk.

I was told they were too small and that they are being moved to WIZO in Tel Aviv. But they were healthy, I gave birth to them with normal birth pains, no cuts or stitches, everything went well. Why did they take them?

My father, Yehuda Ben Muvhar blessed be his memory, and my husband Moshe Cohen, went in a taxi to WIZO in Tel Aviv. There was a religious man who said to them "they brought the babies here, but they died". They were thrown out.

There were several other parents there who came and cried and looked for their babies.

Someone said to my father "Sir, go over there and look, there is a babies' room there". My father was afraid to do it. He did it anyway and saw eight babies. He was scared and he didn't do anything. He didn't take them and didn't identify them.

They came home and comforted me that it will be ok, that all shall pass, that we will see many Briths (circumcisions) yet. And Praise the Lord, I have three sons and a daughter and I am grateful for them. But those first children I do not forget. I would run everywhere it takes. I managed to talk to myself already. What will happen? What if I don't find them? I fear they might have separated them, and they are twins… All my children are beautiful and good and charming. They fight over who will get to take me to the doctor's. I bless them - Yehuda, Nissim, Shlomo and little Etti. And I want to see the first ones.

Yehudit Cohen