The first thing that hit me were the illustrations. I didn’t like them at all, because they weren’t pleasant to look at and the people were just ugly. They had splotches of pink paint on their faces all the time that looked like they were humiliated. People’s faces aren’t red all the time, so that was wrong. I didn’t like the style of the art, whatever it was; it was loose and messy. Their hands looked grotesque as they were painting outside. The mom’s looked like a gargoyle or some other creature. The boy’s hand was squared off like real hands aren’t. The girl had a really big toe that was standing up in the air away from the others..not pretty.
There was way too much writing, and none of it was interesting. There were so many sentences on the page, and some pages were almost entirely full of writing, and this was a big, tall book. I didn’t care about the painting and services and the painting supposed to go on the sacristy wall. It wasn’t interesting at all. When she started mentioning the ice on the roof and back water I was just flabbergasted, because what kid would comprehend and/or care about back water and standing water running into the building and down the wall. Then there was a hole in the wall, and the caretaker knew a plasterer. This just wasn’t kid-friendly at all. I doubt this would keep a kid’s attention, in equal parts because it was too long and because what was written wasn’t interesting.
All of a sudden, as months have gone by, the son is crying and whining about why they had to move there and what God’s plan is for them, and why after all that hard work He had to send a blizzard. I don’t think a stained wall is anything to cry about. I wasn’t buying that a kid that looked that old would cry because it snowed and they couldn’t have the wall painted by Christmas. That’s called life, and he should be used to things not going right by that age. I just doubted he would be so upset after they spent the whole summer and fall happily fixing the church up that with one mishap he’d bemoan the whole move to Detroit.
The boy looked really ugly crying, and his hand looked deformed hugging his dad. The fingers were fat and looked like a monster’s massive paw. Then there were gray shadows on their faces, and I have never seen anyone in my life have gray-colored skin, under any circumstances. It looked like they had been dipped in grease or had soot on them. There were also sketch lines on their bodies, lines on their hands and hair and things like that. Illustrations were totally not working. I guess it could be said that his dad taught the lesson that the universe unfolds like it should, and things don’t seem as bleak—too big a word to use for kids—the next morning.
And come on, I was rolling my eyes when the author wrote that Johnathan didn’t even want to go get Christmas decorations in town because of the church wall. Yeah, right. I’m sure any kid would jump at the chance to go into town to decorate. Him being so bummed out he didn’t even want to go was ridiculous.
The pages with the snowy scene and the bus and people in the street were the prettiest so far. Maybe because the falling snow obscured most of the other details.
Jonathan spotted the cloth in the window, and we’re supposed to believe he instantly had the brilliant idea to hang it over the hole in the church. His dad worried about the price, only has $15 and some change for the bus. Wanna guess what the price of the tapestry is? $15!
Come on. And I don’t know if it was supposed to happen or not, but the shopkeeper looked like he was slyly looking at them. That, combined with him naming all of the cash they had, made me wonder if he heard him say he only had $15. Oh, and I guess kids were supposed to find it highly interesting that it was hand-stitched embroidery…
As they were waiting for the bus, an old lady on the bench—with 4 fingers—called out that it’s always late, and offered them tea from her thermos and cookies. Would you really want to drink after a stranger?
They all kept saying “If the bus ever comes!” and it was over the top to me. The dad offered to take her home from the church, because it was shorter than the bus route would get her there. When they got to the church Jonathan wanted to see the tapestry on the wall, and as soon as they got it up the old lady—who didn’t have a name—recognized it as one she had made in Germany. Quite the tale. It became more fantastical because she didn’t know how it had gotten there from Germany. It would have been better had she taken it with her at some point, rather than the crazy chance that it made it all the way here by some other circumstance. It was cool though that she stitched her initials in it and that it was for her wedding. The picture of them in color, her showing the number tattooed on her arm from the Holocaust, and the black and white picture behind her, of her getting married was cool. The cloth was used as the Chuppah, the canopy over the bride and groom, then as the bedspread on her marriage bed, which was a cool custom. If they had had children before they were taken away by the Secret Service, the children would have been wrapped in it for their naming.
All of the people had red skin on their faces, arms and hands, so it looked like they had all been boiled. Not a good look.
I found it unusual that Jonathan would hug the old woman after her story. Maybe it’s because I was really shy as a kid and didn’t hug people easily, especially strangers, but I just don’t think kids would hug a complete stranger.
The words procession of the Christ Child and the service was to commence promptly were too big for a kid’s book. Smaller words should have been used.
The plasterer was called in on Christmas Eve. As soon as he said his name, Joachin Zukor, I knew he was Jewish, but I never expected he would be the long-lost husband of the old woman. Talk about too much. It’s nice to have a happy ending, but come on, how did a separated married couple from Germany end up in the same town that many years later? How did they both go to Detroit? It’s a nice thought that two separated people in such terrible circumstances found each other at long last, but it needed an explanation.
They asked him if his wife wrote her initials on the cloth and he asked how they knew that. They showed him and he instantly started crying. RHZ for Rachel Hannah Zukor. Then Jonathan was hugging Mr. Zukor, telling him she’s alive and was here 3 days ago. Oh boy. It’s just like kids to go around handing out hugs to strangers…
It all came together at the end, with Jonathan realizing why they moved to Detroit when they did, why the plaster fell, and their car didn’t start, forcing them to take the bus, and why it was so cold that they had tea with an old lady. Everything fit together and had happened for a reason. That’s a nice, hopeful thought to kids to look on the bright side and trust that things are going to turn out okay even if we don’t realize it at the time, though I can’t say I’ve had that happen to me too many times..but anyway, there’s a good lesson here. The tapestry was a metaphor of life, that everything is woven together and makes a whole.
I didn’t really understand the ending, when it was said that the author had heard this story twice, once in the 1960s and then the 1990s in two separate people’s works. Both were apparently told as true stories about young ministers, one from Canada and the other from NY, and that the author retold it in her home state of Michigan. So, the people telling the stories were ministers from those places? Or the Jewish couple were ministers? The real stories should have been explained, that a man and woman separated during the Holocaust were reunited in a state, and how they came to be there, because it was one big mystery. The last page with the church at night, with what looked like 4 moons was pretty, though I don’t know why each of the 3 trees behind the church were framed in these huge, yellow circular shapes that looked like full moons. They shouldn’t have been lit up like that. A white moon was in the sky. The church was pretty with the snow on the roof and the snow-covered bushes surrounding it.
This isn't a kid-friendly book and would be better for older kids, maybe in late elementary or middle school. Despite the pictures, this isn't a standard picture book and the writing is much more mature and there is so much of it, it would require an older kid with a bigger attention span that could sit through this. It just isn't interesting, doesn't read well and would be awful for a read-aloud and took too long to read. I'm not sure what kid would enjoy this or be captured by it, but at 23 I wasn't interested and my attention was wandering. I just wanted to be done with it. Also, I didn't even want to look at the pictures because the people were so disturbing.