Top Ten Tuesday is hosted by That Artsy Reader Girl.
This week we could choose whichever topic we wanted so I chose: Top Ten Quotes from my favorite Christmas book (or one of them): Shepherds Abiding by Jan Karon.
A description of the book:
Experience the joys of a small town Christmas in this novel in the beloved Mitford series from #1 New York Times bestselling author Jan Karon.
Millions of Americans have found Mitford to be a favorite home-away-from-home, and countless readers have long wondered what Christmas in Mitford would be like. The eighth Mitford novel provides a glimpse, offering a meditation on the best of all presents: the gift of one’s heart.
Since he was a boy, Father Tim has lived what he calls “the life of the mind” and has never really learned to savor the work of his hands. When he finds a derelict nativity scene that has suffered the indignities of time and neglect, he imagines the excitement in the eyes of his wife, Cynthia, and decides to undertake the daunting task of restoring it. As Father Tim begins his journey, readers are given a seat at Mitford’s holiday table and treated to a magical tale about the true Christmas spirit.
I try to read either all of this book, or parts of it, each year at Christmastime.
“Lord, make me a blessing to someone today!” He uttered aloud his grandmother’s prayer, raised his umbrella, and, beneath the sound of rain thudding onto black nylon, turned left, and headed to Lord’s Chapel to borrow a volume of Jonathan Edwards from the church library.
The day after his visit to Oxford Antiques, he realized that the angel had seized his imagination. He was surprised by a vivid recollection of her face, which he’d found beautiful, and the piety of her folded hands and downcast eyes. As for the missing wing, wasn’t that a pretty accurate representation of most of the human horde, himself certainly included?
In the back room of Happy Endings, Hope finished reading the second letter on her desk and held it for a moment close to her heart. She had never received a love letter before. She was, of course, the only one who would think it a love letter, as there was no mention of love in it, at all. Yet she could feel love beating in each word, in every stroke of the pen, just as it beat in the heart and soul of the chaplain of Hope House and expressed itself in everything he did.
His father gazed at him for an instant more, then walked up the steps and into the house. He sat there, numb with a mixture of joy and bewilderment. In one brief and startling moment, he realized that he was, after all, seen — and perhaps even loved.
When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You know that your name is safe in their mouth.
Blast it! No! He would not forfeit the glad rewards of this rare, unhurried moment. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and closed his eyes. Thank you, Lord, for the grace of an untroubled spirit, and for the blessings which are ours in numbers too great to count or even recognize. . . . He sat for some time, giving thanks, and then, without precisely meaning to, remembering. . . .
But, no. He didn’t want the Holy Family to go faster. He’d developed a special tenderness toward the last of this worshipful assembly, and wanted to give them his best effort, his deepest concentration. Indeed, it seemed to be the wont of most people in a distracted and frantic world to blast through an experience without savoring it or, later, reflecting upon it.
“I brought it home and thought, Timothy gave Hélène his beautiful bronze angel, I want to do this for him. Because if I could do it, it would represent the very reason Christ was born. He came to put us back together, and make us whole.”
“Christmas is real,” he said. “It’s all true.”
“Yes,” she said. “It’s all true.
“Merry Christmas, my love.”
“Merry Christmas, dearest.”
“I’m a sinner saved by grace, Lew, not by works. It doesn’t matter a whit that I’m a priest. What matters is that we surrender our hearts to God and receive His forgiveness, and come into personal relationship with His Son.”
Bonus: He leaned down and took her chin in his hand and kissed her, lingering. “I like to see your eyelashes go up and down and the little stars come out of you.”
This post is part of Comfy, Cozy Christmas, being hosted by me and Erin at Still Life, With Cracker Crumbs.
If you write book reviews or book-related blog posts, don’t forget that Erin and I host the A Good Book and A Cup of Tea Monthly Bookish Blog Party. You can learn more about it here.
Hello! Welcome to my blog. I am a blogger, homeschool mom, and I write cozy mysteries.
You can find my Gladwynn Grant Mystery series HERE.
