No elf to hide. No Santa to explain. No scripture to read.
On the first of December a tiny spark comes loose from a candle flame and settles on the crooked bow of a wreath.
His name is Pip. He is not an angel, not a ghost, not an elf. He is light that speaks for a moment.
And he sits somewhere new every single night.
On a whisk. On a wet glove drying on the radiator. On a worn-down eraser. On the back of a chair nobody needs.
Every chapter ends by telling you where Pip is sitting tonight — and on the last page you'll find him to cut out. Clip him there. Tomorrow, somewhere else. Sometimes you'll have to look for him.
One chapter a night. Two to four minutes. That's all it takes.At Rosa and Ben's house the wreath is crooked, there's flour on the kitchen floor, the twins argue, the dog lies in everybody's way — and one chair at the table stays empty.
Pip never lectures. He notices, he asks, and he stays.
Every evening comes with one small thing that takes thirty seconds and has a name:
The Candle Silence. The First Look. The Same Side. Saying Without Solving.
A tool with a name can be called for again in March. Good advice without a name disappears in January.
What's insideA wreath doesn't have to be perfect. And neither does a family.
For families with children 5 to 12 — and for everyone else in the room.
"synopsis" may belong to another edition of this title.
Seller: California Books, Miami, FL, U.S.A.
Condition: New. Print on Demand. Seller Inventory # I-9798171429966