I've just surfaced from a good book. I loved this book, every page of it. I was taken into its world, in anguish over the fate of its characters. I even composed an imaginary letter of recrimination to the author when one of the characters died and I was grief-stricken. The book I've just finished is called "My Sister's Keeper" by Jodi Piccoult. I'm comparing it to the books I read as a child that always sent me into another world. Not that Sister's Keeper compares to Sweet Valley High or the Caitlin horse series, but just as you can smell the flower scented air of the Secret Garden or feel the salt on your skin from the Island of the Blue Dolphins, you forget to breath the Santa Barbara air in 2007. Someday I'll have to return to my life. Or maybe I'll just find another good book. Got any recommendations?
Lucie has suddenly started questioning things. And by things, I mean eternal things. It all started when she asked if I would read her a bedtime story from the Bible storybook. The book opens innocently enough with the story of creation. There are lions and tigers and bears, and naked people being created from dust. (At this point in the story you’d think questions would arise, but no, kids just seem to go along with it at face value. Which is exactly the reason I've had to work so hard to convince Lucie that turtleneck shirts are not actually made from the necks of turtles.) Anyways ... "Do you know why Adam and Eve are sad?" I asked, pointing at the picture of them sorrowfully leaving the garden. "I sure do, " Lucie assured me. "They are sad because they don't have any parents." Impressive, huh? Clearly, she’d been processing and following along. "Well there is that," I prodded her, "and also they have to leave the ...
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