Musée Ukraina Museum - Ukrainian Museum on Ave M

Spotlight on... the Little Red Jacket

Have you seen the Museum display of the Little Red Jacket? The jacket and its story were lovingly donated by its owner - Christine Baran Devrome in 2022.

Then, in 2026, she let go of the sewing machine that put the pieces of that jacket together, donating it to MUM - bringing a bit of its history to our visitors.

This is Christine's story, loving remembered as a tribute to her creative mother, Anna Maria...

‘LOVING STITCHES' begins in 2022
A very large storage chest has been the keeper of my most precious memories. Now at age 80, I decided it was time to open the chest and start re-evaluating my treasures one piece at a time. As I was picking out each item, a small woolen jacket came out of hiding.

With tears in my eyes, I pulled out a well-worn little jacket made from an old burgundy-red woolen blanket with a few rips and balding spots. It was a reminder of long ago turbulent and dangerous times.

I was born in Ukraine and my very first memory is of my father's arms wrapped tightly around me and him whispering ‘be very still and quiet' as bombs were exploding around us. Other early memories include being carried, running, hiding and staying in stranger's houses. I later learned that my parents, me and my slightly older brother, were part of the mass exodus of refugees at the end of the Second World War.

This story begins at the end of the Second World War, sometime in 1944 -1945. My young mother Anna Maria Kowcz Baran, with her two very young children Asya (me, Christine - age 2) and Ihorchyk (Emil - my big brother, age 3+) fled from Ukraine with the hope of reuniting with our father, Theodore - Anna Maria's underground fighter husband.

At the same time, our father was searching for us. And, reunite we did! It is a long and complex story. I do have a few memories but, am never sure if they are real or events that I was told about later in life. However, I definitely do remember the sound of airplanes and bombs and, of my father holding and sheltering me.

The next 3+ years were spent in various International Refugee Organization Displaced Persons Camps (DPC) - starting with Amberg, where a second daughter was born to Theodore & Anna Maria. A camp near Winzer, Bavaria, Germany, on an American occupation zone, became our home until we were ready to depart to Canada in 1949. The DPC camps were set up as a temporary refuge for persons fleeing from the perils in their homeland, awaiting resettlement in other countries. As children, we often ran after the jeeps of the American soldiers, who happily allowed us to pile in for a ride. The townspeople near the camp were also very kind to us. I often went to one of the houses with my little pot to get a small jar of cream or some milk.

My father served as Administrator of the camp; where he also resumed painting. Visual and sensory childhood memories are still with me. I can close my eyes and see the huge castle surrounded by the city. I can still smell the oil paint as my father completed the painting of that castle; and, both see and smell the portraits of American soldiers - trading his art works for food.

Mother stayed busy arranging for our education, writing plays for children, embroidering - of which many of her beautiful pieces were often used as barter. I believe it was then that my mother began sewing a little red jacket from donated or found materials - perhaps an old coat or part of a blanket. I watched as she ripped up the discarded materials saving the thread, the buttons and the little ribbons. The jacket was completely handmade; lined with a red satin-like material and embroidered designs.

I loved that little red jacket and wore it until it fell apart. With our arrival in Saskatoon, during an extremely cold December 1949, the little red jacket did not keep me very warm. As I was also outgrowing the jacket it was put into a wooden storage chest - where it stayed for many years.

I cannot remember when was the first time I wore my little red jacket nor a time when I did not have it. It was always just there. This little jacket is my greatest childhood treasure.

‘LOVING STITCHES' - updated 2026
Introducing Vestazinha, my little sewing machine. This is the sewing machine that my mother used to stitch the little red jacket; the one written about in the above paragraphs.

While in the DPC, a stranger came to our door and showed my mother this sewing machine. He asked if she would like to buy it. I watched my mother looked at the beautiful machine then tell the stranger that she would not be able to pay for it and asked him to leave. The stranger looked at her, then looked at me and said to my mother "I would not take your money but, please take this sewing machine as a gift and someday give it to your daughter." He placed the sewing machine on the ground and quietly walked away.

The Vestazinha serial #1998391, Vesta Saxonia transverse shuttle hand-crank ¾ machine was made in a factory in Altenburg, Germany, circa 1940, when production switched to making munitions until 1946.

LIFE IN WINZER
We did not have a camera but, when my mother noticed that the soldiers had cameras, she asked them to take a picture of my brother and me. This meant that we had to change into something more appropriate. Mother was ready for our quick change. She had earlier put together items just for this possible situation.

At one time mother had plenty of beautiful embroidery. However, much of it had been bartered away for food and lodging in the flight from Ukraine. With this gone, she had improvised as best she could. She cut one of her embroidered table runners into pieces and attached these appropriately to a white long-sleeved shirt; my skirt was an embroidered pillow case.

So, there we were! My brother Emil and me in our Ukrainian-looking costumes. The soldiers took the pictures and later delivered them to our mother.

Photos below from L to R: Christine is on the far right; Emil is in the centre - wearing the hat, Christine is in the back row, 3rd from the right; Taras Shevchenko concert - Theodore, middle row, 3rd from the right, Christine, front row - far left. Photo source: dpcamps.org

Reminiscences such as Christine's make up the story of Ukrainians who helped form the kaleidoscope of our shared history. Do you have a family story to share?

Previous postings of Spotlight on...
A Parade of Dolls
Life and Art of Theodore Baran
St. Nicholas
Pokrova

Musée Ukraina Museum Inc.