“And then, on Christmas Eve, a miracle occurred: Ting-Pei Warren, the Judeo-Christian Buddhist cat, high on catnip and tuna water, silently scaled the six-foot spruce while her family sat by the fire, making short work of a pecan-encrusted cheese log. The three of us turned just in time to see her, a silver star atop the highest bough. And just in time to see her lose her balance and take the entire tree down with her” (p 50).
“I got up and went to the desk in my office. I pulled a black tin box out of the top right drawer and returned to sit back down beside Harry. I opened the box and extracted the dollar that Harry’s namesake had left for Ben those many years ago. I handed Harry the dollar bill, telling him he had to be very careful with it.
“‘I want to tell you a story. This story is about the man you’re named after and about the woman who looked after you early in your life and about the man she called her American son’” (p 320).