It's been a while since I read this one, and it is as powerful today as it was the first time I read it. And even more precious, as I know we won't get any more stories from Lucky.
Despite the sadness that hits me every time I read one of her amazing stories, I still get so much joy from rereading them. She was a master storyteller, and this is one of her gems. It brings a bit of pain to the frivolity of modern Christmastide, but then again, Christmas traditions are often rooted in a darker, more violent past. It's not a bad thing to think about those roots of our holiday rituals. They mean a lot more than shopping and tinsel.
I still love the thread of love and devotion that runs through this story. Mick, Louise, Lucky, and Danger all love and accept Josef's traditions, although none of them can truly understand why they are so important to him. But, to them, all that matters is that those traditions ARE important. And they love him and nurture him through it all.
