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Quote by Curtis Ferrell

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Dual Citizenship: Living as a Christian in America

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Curtis Ferrell

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“My dad's boss hosted a Christmas event at his house. Gathering for food and drink. Presents for the kids. A smoking Santa passed out gifts. My box was huge. An electric race track. I had never had a present that nice. But there had been a mistake. Santa took my race track. Handed it to another kid. Gave me a box of books. And said it was the right gift for me.”

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“Late July. Friends arrive bearing gifts. A shallow white cardboard box turns out to be carrying a cluster of flat white peaches, their soft pink cheeks nudging one another. The scent of roses teases as I open the lid. Eight plump navels, their parchment skin flushed with brushstrokes of rose and carmine.”

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“A shallow washi paper box, a gift from its maker, Wataru Hatano, never moves. Artist and craftsman, Hatano works in Kurotani, northern Kyoto, the traditional home of this soft, deeply matte paper, where the mulberry trees that go into washi-making are part of the landscape. The soft charcoal color of the box is achieved with layer upon layer of tannin derived from fermented persimmon. It is a box of treasure, where I keep my folding wooden ruler, brown Yama-guri ink and folding wire-framed spectacles. For some reason it also holds a sprig of dried roses from the garden, their petals faded to the color of belladonna.”

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