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A mother in Reykjavík knitted a woolen sweater for her son. After years of use, he eventually grew out of it, and the sweater was passed on to a friend’s daughter. For a while the little girl refused to wear much else. Eventually, the sweater moved on again, to the next family. One winter it got lost, but as spring came the sweater appeared from underneath a pile of snow in the backyard. With a bit of care it was as good as new again. Captured in photos in family albums, carried in backpacks on countryside hikes, folded in wardrobes in kids’ rooms from Reykjavík to Akureyri, Amsterdam and back, the sweater has been traveling from one child to another as a hand-me-down amidst this group of friends and family for well over a decade now.