My mother used to sit with my sisters and me around her as she read to us from the Bible. Strange and dramatic sagas of Jonah and the big fish, Noah and his ark, and David and Goliath. These fed a vivid imagination. Later, when I began reading the Bible on my own, I appreciated the rich poetry of the Song of Solomon, the lyricism of Proverbs and Ecclesiastes. While the gospels are a measure of faith for some, to me the birth of Jesus was a haunting and original tale. The plaintive appeals of Paul in his letters to the Corinthians and to Timothy were surpassed by the drama of Pentecost and by the rich, mysterious imagery of Revelation. I learned from this book that words can heal when you're feeling sore in spirit, that they can make you reflective, joyful, somber. Not so much because you subscribe to a religious belief they may point to, but because they have power when put together in the right way.