I loved this book EVEN MORE than Trobaugh's marvelous novel, "Sophie and the Rising Sun." The protagonist in this story, Dove, is one of the most winsome, memorable teenagers I've read about in a while. She is earnest, honest, and loving - although she swears to stop loving people, after suffering very difficult losses and discovering that deep love so often results in deep pain.
And yet, her compassionate and responsible heart cannot help but love those who enter her life: a very young "stepmom" who is more like an older sister, the granddaughter of a neighbor who she relates to better than any of the girls at school, a larger-than-life maid named Buzzard who takes Dove and her family beneath her ample wing.
The storyline and characters remind me somewhat of The Secret Life of Bees: strong, salt-of-the-earth Southern women, both black and white, full of faith, surviving by a hard work ethic, committed to loving "the least of these" and protecting the needy with every ounce of their strength. This particular story covers a year - from one Easter to the next - in Dove's life, one full of loss and transition, and full of strong women who teach her that she has more to lean on in this life than her own responsibility and grit.
The writing is beautiful as well, and Dove's own love of writing stories enriches this book as well.
The prologue gives the reader a true taste of what's to follow:
Every spring, I watch for the first tender assurances of the earth being born all over again - a particular, fragrant sweetness in the air, the green mist of newly sprouting leaves, a veil of dew on the grass early in the mornings, and the savage, melodious songs of young mockingbirds staking out their territories. And I am always drawn back to one particular spring, starting on an Easter Sunday morning when I was only fourteen years old, when I finally started becoming the woman I was destined to become - when I arrived, after a long year of losing and gaining all the strong women who became grafted into my being forever. A year of learning what it meant to get on with living, as Aunt Bett always said. But also of discovering that I had a secret place deep inside that was filled with the strength and love that came from that terrible and wonderful year. A year when I lost almost everything I had to lose - but when I finally came to realize that no howling storm of life buffeting me would ever be as ferocious as the throbbing breath of resolve deep inside, leading me, at last, to the song I was created to sing.