Unfortunately for Walsch it was noted that the exact same story (essentially a nauseating tale about some children holding hands in a way that spelled out "ChristWas Love", even though it actually said "Christmas Love") had appeared a decade ago in a piece by writer Candy Chand. Not a particularly interesting story in itself (do we really care if religion writers go round copying this kind of thing from each other?), but a subesequent apology involved Walsch coming up with the greatest excuse for plagiarism that any of us are ever likely to see:
All I can say now -- because I am truly mystified and taken aback by this -- is that someone must have sent it to me over the internet ten years or so ago. Finding it utterly charming and its message indelible, I must have clipped and pasted it into my file of "stories to tell that have a message I want to share." I have told the story verbally so many times over the years that I had it memorized...and then, somewhere along the way, internalized it as my own experience. I am aghast at how improbable this sounds, even to me, yet I can find no other explanation for how this story came out of my mouth in Candy Chand's words.Brilliant. Why can't people just accept when they've been rumbled?