Thursday, December 15, 2011
Late in the darkened day, dozens of gifts finally wrapped, most of the cards out into the world, the house clean, the boy's room ready for the boy, and the clients happy, I stopped.
For my dear niece Claire, I'd bought a copy of Wonderstruck by the masterful Brian Selznick. I hadn't wrapped this gift yet. I'd wanted to take time with it, so that Claire and I could talk about it later. Those soft yet crystalline pencil drawings. Those two stories that become one. That old-time New York City. That cabinet of wonders. Meteorites and movie stars.
Six-hundred thirty-five pages of art. A book dedicated to Maurice Sendak. A book that, in this late hour, in a time where I've been feeling that brand of holiday rush and sad, felt just right, felt perfect.
Yes. This was the one. This was the book for my big-hearted, big-eyed beautiful Claire. This was the moment that finally ushered in my Christmas.