The First Christmas Tree: And Other Stories; Mildly Modernized

Van Dyke does not write story, or myth, but legend. You feel it in every pulse of his words, and every dwelling of his thoughts, that here is something greater than everyday life, which exists within the day to day, but is of a time far removed, much like our own time. His prose is beauty, and I find myself repeatedly returning to phrases and turns of idea and sentences, catching myself on the profundity of thought which I had not originally realized in the first reading, but now needed to steep myself within the understanding that Van Dyke experienced. I know of few authors that compare to his wonder at the world and the word, causing us as his readers to learn appreciation and know the beautiful. I read this book at a time of sorrow and disappointment, when the plans I so desired were astray, and my hopes seemingly demolished. I needed encouragement, and to dream again. Here I learned to dream of power encounters and new trees, and the wonder of the power of love that at first only the angels see. The occasional pictures are resplendently simple, encouraging imagination rather than stealing it away. After the stories, a short sermon on the giving of gifts, which did not feel at all sermonizing or patronizing, but rather wonderful words, on how to care. And lastly, needed Christmas prayers, for those at home, and for the lonely- not sentimental, but prayers which stimulate growth just in the very reading.