I’m sitting in an easy chair by the fire and watching snow fall on St. Louis. It’s a beautiful Christmas Eve morning. I’m about to pick up a book and relax for a bit before things get really going. And I was thinking about one of my favorite Christmas books ever.
“The Herdmans were absolutely the worst kids in the history of the world. They lied and stole and smoked cigars (even the girls) and talked dirty and hit little kids and cussed their teachers and took the name of the Lord in vain and set fire to Fred Shoemaker’s old broken-down toolhouse….
“They were just so all-around awful you could hardly believe they were real: Ralph, Imogene, Leroy, Claude, Ollie, and Gladys–six skinny, stringy-haired kids all alike except for being different sizes and having different black-and-blue places where they had clonked each other.”
And the final words: “And I thought about the Angel of the Lord–Gladys, with her skinny legs and her dirty sneakers sticking out from under her robe, yelling at all of us, everywhere: ‘Hey, unto you a child is born!'”
What a great story and what wonderful memories that come with.
Did you have a favorite holiday book as a kid or as an adult? Let me know in the comments.
P.S. Yesterday this blog hit 1,000 total page views since I began writing in March. Thanks to all of you who read, click or subscribe. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you and your families. And I hope someone who loves you gives you a book to read.