I'm trying to figure out why I enjoyed this book so much more the second time than I did when I first read it five years ago. Maybe I liked it more because I read it more slowly and really savored the beautifully-written prose. Maybe I liked it more in my second reading because I knew that the book would be a pleasantly meandering story of a Christian minister's memories of a life simply lived and only tangentially about the Civil War. (I had expected another Cold Mountain the first time that I read it). Or perhaps the content appealed to me more since I'm older now and can better understand the urge to look backward at the end of one's life to remember the days that really mattered and the desire to pass on one's story to the next generation so that it will not be forgotten. Whatever the reason, I'm pleased that I can now highly recommend this book.