I was a busy, busy, busy two-year old. I wore poor Mother out. Dad always did his best to help when he got home, but for some reason supper time is when I got my second wind. Keeping me out of trouble was a full-time job. One night as Mother battled to get the food finished, Dad was trying to sneak in some reading while watching me. It wasn’t going well, but the book he’d picked up for his elementary classroom was fascinating him. The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe put Jesus in another world and it was beautiful. Desperate for some way of corralling me, he decided to combine his reading with an attempt to entertain me. He read me the first chapter, and not only did I love it I asked for and sat perfectly still for a second chapter. It was a turning point in managing me. I love stories. I’d trade good behavior for new stories any day, all day.
Fifty-two is a milestone though not one especially celebrated, but as I thought it over I realized I have been listening to or reading Narnia for fifty years. Over the years my father and I read the books over and over and over. Four of my children have Pevensie names. If there is one thing I aspire to be it is a good Narnian. I don’t always agree with C.S.Lewis, particularly about the girl parts of things, but these things are small in comparison with the many beautiful gifts the books offer as far as early theology and character development. Narnia is a wonderful place to get started on growing up.
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