I think (touch wood) that we've finally beaten the stomach bug that has hit LMC and me recently. With both of us suffering and Mr C looking after us best he could it does mean I've been able to get back to reading much more than I had managed previously. As I did when waiting for LMC to arrive, I've retreated back into my Monica Dickens collection for comfort.
I started off with the lovely Joy and Josephine. Now I should say that this is a recent addition to the collection as it came to me in the form of a Christmas present from my MIL S. When I started the pre-LMC Monica Dickens frenzy she remembered reading this book many years ago and managed to search out a copy for me as a gift. A lovely gift it was too with another excellent tale, but in true Monica Dickens style on a completely different subject.
Joy and Josephine were two babies in an orphanage who everyone thought looked amazingly alike. The problem was that one of them was killed in a tragic accident, whilst the other survived with just a bump to the head. Everyone thought they knew which baby met their fate that night, or so they thought…
This book really does make you think about the question of nature vs nurture. Which is most important? Does it really matter if you don't know who you really are if you are happy and loved? Thankfully, not questions that I think I can answer, but certainly ones that I've started to think about.
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