This book was one of my Christmas presents. Described as ‘A wonderful work of art and a wonderful window into the human heart’ (Richard Curtis), it is a tale of hope and friendship and totally delightful in its simplicity. I’ve read it several times and find something different to consider with each reading.
There’s nothing that’s never been said before, nor earth-shatteringly insightful, but it does us good to be reminded sometimes that the simple things are often good things. A friend of mine thinks the fact that I write a blog is, to use her word, weird. ‘I don’t understand why you’d do it,’ she has said more than once. That’s ok by me – she doesn’t need to. She doesn’t need to read it either, and neither does anyone else if they don’t want to. So long as I hurt no-one and show kindness where I can, I’m pretty happy with who I am.
I’ve said before that I don’t seek to impress. If people find me not to their liking, it’s no bother. If they think that what I do is odd, no problem. I’m me, I’m who I am and I am enough. This book summed that up very nicely for me.
It was bought by my husband but suggested by another friend, this time one who knows me very well and knew that it would be well received. I have many lovely friends and a lovely family too. Thus, I feel blessed.