A Year with Aslan: Daily Reflections from The Chronicles of Narnia

by C. S. Lewis

  “It’ll be all right,” whispered Peter in reply. “He wouldn’t send them if it weren’t.”

  —The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

  Peter has just met Aslan, yet he expresses complete faith in his judgment. Have you ever felt such trust in someone shortly after meeting him or her?

  APRIL 10

  Thou Art My Heir

  AND TOMORROW, COR,” [King Lune] added, “shalt come over all the castle with me and see the estate, and mark all its strength and weakness, for it will be thine to guard when I’m gone.”

  “But Corin will be the King then, Father,” said Cor.

  “Nay, lad,” said King Lune, “thou art my heir. The crown comes to thee.”

  “But I don’t want it,” said Cor. “I’d far rather—”

  “ ’Tis no question what thou wantest, Cor, nor I either. ’Tis in the course of law.”

  “But if we’re twins we must be the same age.”

  “Nay,” said the King with a laugh. “One must come first. Art Corin’s elder by full twenty minutes. And his better too, let’s hope, though that’s no great mastery.” And he looked at Corin with a twinkle in his eyes.

  “But, Father, couldn’t you make whichever you like to be the next King?”

  “No. The king’s under the law, for it’s the law makes him a king. Hast no more power to start away from thy crown than any sentry from his post.”

  “Oh dear,” said Cor. “I don’t want to at all. And Corin—I am most dreadfully sorry. I never dreamed my turning up was going to chisel you out of your kingdom.”

  “Hurrah! Hurrah!” said Corin. “I shan’t have to be King. I shan’t have to be King. I’ll always be a prince. It’s princes have all the fun.”

  “And that’s truer than thy brother knows, Cor,” said King Lune. “For this is what it means to be a king: to be first in every desperate attack and last in every desperate retreat, and when there’s hunger in the land (as must be now and then in bad years) to wear finer clothes and laugh louder over a scantier meal than any man in your land.”

  —The Horse and His Boy

  Why does no one—neither Cor nor Corin nor even the present King—seem at all anxious to be king? How do you interpret King Lune’s last comments about being a king? How are they true for those in power today?

  APRIL 11

  Enjoying the Journey

  [THE SECOND JOURNEY] was even better than yesterday, partly because everyone was feeling so fresh, and partly because the newly risen sun was at their backs and, of course, everything looks nicer when the light is behind you. It was a wonderful ride. The big snowy mountains rose above them in every direction. The valleys, far beneath them, were so green, and all the streams which tumbled down from the glaciers into the main river were so blue, that it was like flying over gigantic pieces of jewelry. They would have liked this part of the adventure to go on longer than it did. But quite soon they were all sniffing the air and saying “What is it?” and “Did you smell something?” and “Where’s it coming from?” For a heavenly smell, warm and golden, as if from all the most delicious fruits and flowers of the world, was coming up to them from somewhere ahead.

  “It’s coming from that valley with the lake in it,” said Fledge.

  “So it is,” said Digory. “And look! There’s a green hill at the far end of the lake. And look how blue the water is.”

  “It must be the place,” said all three.

  —The Magician’s Nephew

  What about the journey described here appeals to you? When have you experienced the feeling that the journey was even better than the destination? What could it mean to live your entire life this way?

  APRIL 12

  The Great Bridge Builder

  BUT BETWEEN THEM and the foot of the sky there was something so white on the green grass that even with their eagles’ eyes they could hardly look at it. They came on and saw that it was a Lamb.

  “Come and have breakfast,” said the Lamb in its sweet milky voice.

  Then they noticed for the first time that there was a fire lit on the grass and fish roasting on it. They sat down and ate the fish, hungry now for the first time for many days. And it was the most delicious food they had ever tasted.

  “Please, Lamb,” said Lucy, “is this the way to Aslan’s country?”

  “Not for you,” said the Lamb. “For you the door into Aslan’s country is from your own world.”

  “What!” said Edmund. “Is there a way into Aslan’s country from our world too?”

  “There is a way into my country from all the worlds,” said the Lamb; but as he spoke, his snowy white flushed into tawny gold and his size changed and he was Aslan himself, towering above them and scattering light from his mane.

  “Oh, Aslan,” said Lucy. “Will you tell us how to get into your country from our world?”

  “I shall be telling you all the time,” said Aslan. “But I will not tell you how long or short the way will be; only that it lies across a river. But do not fear that, for I am the great Bridge Builder. And now come; I will open the door in the sky and send you to your own land.”

  —The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

  What does Aslan mean when he says he is the great Bridge Builder? What does Aslan’s country represent for you?

  APRIL 13

  What a Horse Can Stand

  WELL, I CAN’T GO ON without a snack,” said Bree. “Take my bridle off, Shasta.”

  “P-please,” said Hwin, very shyly, “I feel just like Bree that I can’t go on. But when Horses have humans (with spurs and things) on their backs, aren’t they often made to go on when they’re feeling like this? And then they find they can. I m-mean—oughtn’t we to be able to do even more, now that we’re free? It’s all for Narnia.”

  “I think, Ma’am,” said Bree very crushingly, “that I know a little more about campaigns and forced marches and what a horse can stand than you do.”

  To this Hwin made no answer, being, like most highly bred mares, a very nervous and gentle person who was easily put down. In reality she was quite right, and if Bree had had a Tarkaan on his back at that moment to make him go on, he would have found that he was good for several hours’ hard going. But one of the worst results of being a slave and being forced to do things is that when there is no one to force you any more you find you have almost lost the power of forcing yourself.

  —The Horse and His Boy

  What makes you push yourself to go on during those times when you’re no longer sure you can? How do you put limits on yourself?

  APRIL 14

  Bargaining

  SON OF ADAM,” said Aslan. “Are you ready to undo the wrong that you have done to my sweet country of Narnia on the very first day of its birth?”

  “Well, I don’t see what I can do,” said Digory. “You see, the Queen ran away and—”

  “I asked, are you ready?” said the Lion.

  “Yes,” said Digory. He had had for a second some wild idea of saying, “I’ll try to help you if you’ll promise to help my Mother,” but he realized in time that the Lion was not at all the sort of person one could try to make bargains with.

  —The Magician’s Nephew

  How does Digory initially avoid Aslan’s question? Why would Aslan not be someone to bargain with? What would have been a better way for Digory to approach Aslan for help for his mother?

  APRIL 15

  What Ever Am I to Say to Him?

  WITH A JINGLING OF MAIL the others climbed up behind [Lucy]. Aslan glided on before them and they walked after him.

  “Lucy,” said Susan in a very small voice.

  “Yes?” said Lucy.

  “I see him now. I’m sorry.”

  “That’s all right.”

  “But I’ve been far worse than you know. I really believed it was him—he, I mean—yesterday. When he warned us not to go down to the fir wood. And I really believed it was him tonight, when you woke us up. I mean, deep down inside. Or I could have, if I
’d let myself. But I just wanted to get out of the woods and—and—oh, I don’t know. And what ever am I to say to him?”

  “Perhaps you won’t need to say much,” suggested Lucy.

  —Prince Caspian

  Why might not saying much be the best option for Susan after denying Aslan’s presence with them? What do you think the best strategy is when we realize we have made bad choices?

  APRIL 16

  You Have Listened to Fears

  HUSH!” SAID THE OTHER FOUR, for now Aslan had stopped and turned and stood facing them, looking so majestic that they felt as glad as anyone can who feels afraid, and as afraid as anyone can who feels glad. The boys strode forward: Lucy made way for them: Susan and the Dwarf shrank back.

  “Oh, Aslan,” said King Peter, dropping on one knee and raising the Lion’s heavy paw to his face, “I’m so glad. And I’m so sorry. I’ve been leading them wrong ever since we started and especially yesterday morning.”

  “My dear son,” said Aslan.

  Then he turned and welcomed Edmund. “Well done,” were his words.

  Then, after an awful pause, the deep voice said, “Susan.” Susan made no answer but the others thought she was crying. “You have listened to fears, child,” said Aslan. “Come, let me breathe on you. Forget them. Are you brave again?”

  “A little, Aslan,” said Susan.

  —Prince Caspian

  Peter and Susan don’t initially believe Lucy when she says she can see Aslan and asks them to follow her. Why might listening to fears prevent Susan from seeing Aslan? When have your fears prevented you from doing the right thing?

  APRIL 17

  Spring

  EVERY MOMENT the patches of green grew bigger and the patches of snow grew smaller. Every moment more and more of the trees shook off their robes of snow. Soon, wherever you looked, instead of white shapes you saw the dark green of firs or the black prickly branches of bare oaks and beeches and elms. Then the mist turned from white to gold and presently cleared away altogether. Shafts of delicious sunlight struck down onto the forest floor and overhead you could see a blue sky between the tree tops.

  Soon there were more wonderful things happening. Coming suddenly round a corner into a glade of silver birch trees Edmund saw the ground covered in all directions with little yellow flowers—celandines.

  The noise of water grew louder. Presently they actually crossed a stream. Beyond it they found snowdrops growing.

  “Mind your own business!” said the dwarf when he saw that Edmund had turned his head to look at them; and he gave the rope a vicious jerk.

  But of course this didn’t prevent Edmund from seeing. Only five minutes later he noticed a dozen crocuses growing round the foot of an old tree—gold and purple and white. Then came a sound even more delicious than the sound of the water. Close beside the path they were following a bird suddenly chirped from the branch of a tree. It was answered by the chuckle of another bird a little further off. And then, as if that had been a signal, there was chattering and chirruping in every direction, and then a moment of full song, and within five minutes the whole wood was ringing with birds’ music, and wherever Edmund’s eyes turned he saw birds alighting on branches, or sailing overhead or chasing one another or having their little quarrels or tidying up their feathers with their beaks.

  —The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

  What does the spring symbolize? Can you imagine perpetual winter with no relief? How can the turning of seasons be helpful to us as humans?

  APRIL 18

  The Albatross

  DRINIAN,” [CASPIAN] said in a very low voice. “How long did we take rowing in?—I mean rowing to where we picked up the stranger?”

  “Five minutes, perhaps,” whispered Drinian. “Why?”

  “Because we’ve been more than that already trying to get out.”

  Drinian’s hand shook on the tiller and a line of cold sweat ran down his face. The same idea was occurring to everyone on board. “We shall never get out, never get out,” moaned the rowers. “He’s steering us wrong. We’re going round and round in circles. We shall never get out.”. . .

  Lucy leant her head on the edge of the fighting-top and whispered, “Aslan, Aslan, if ever you loved us at all, send us help now.” The darkness did not grow any less, but she began to feel a little—a very, very little—better. “After all, nothing has really happened to us yet,” she thought.

  “Look!” cried Rynelf’s voice hoarsely from the bows. There was a tiny speck of light ahead, and while they watched, a broad beam of light fell from it upon the ship. It did not alter the surrounding darkness, but the whole ship was lit up as if by searchlight. Caspian blinked, stared round, saw the faces of his companions all with wild, fixed expressions. Everyone was staring in the same direction: behind everyone lay his black, sharply edged shadow.

  Lucy looked along the beam and presently saw something in it. At first it looked like a cross, then it looked like an aeroplane, then it looked like a kite, and at last with a whirring of wings it was right overhead and was an albatross. It circled three times round the mast and then perched for an instant on the crest of the gilded dragon at the prow. It called out in a strong sweet voice what seemed to be words though no one understood them. After that it spread its wings, rose, and began to fly slowly ahead, bearing a little to starboard. Drinian steered after it not doubting that it offered good guidance. But no one except Lucy knew that as it circled the mast it had whispered to her, “Courage, dear heart,” and the voice, she felt sure, was Aslan’s, and with the voice a delicious smell breathed in her face.

  In a few moments the darkness turned into a greyness ahead, and then, almost before they dared to begin hoping, they had shot out into the sunlight and were in the warm, blue world again. And all at once everybody realized that there was nothing to be afraid of and never had been. They blinked their eyes and looked about them. The brightness of the ship herself astonished them: they had half expected to find that the darkness would cling to the white and the green and the gold in the form of some grime or scum. And then first one, and then another, began laughing.

  “I reckon we’ve made pretty good fools of ourselves,” said Rynelf.

  —The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

  Why does Rynelf feel they’ve made fools of themselves? When have you been terrified and later realized there was nothing to be afraid of? How do we allow ourselves to be fooled?

  APRIL 19

  The Forgotten Story

  ON THE NEXT PAGE she came to a spell “for the refreshment of the spirit.” The pictures were fewer here but very beautiful. And what Lucy found herself reading was more like a story than a spell. It went on for three pages and before she had read to the bottom of the page she had forgotten that she was reading at all. She was living in the story as if it were real, and all the pictures were real too. When she had got to the third page and come to the end, she said, “That is the loveliest story I’ve ever read or ever shall read in my whole life. Oh, I wish I could have gone on reading it for ten years. At least I’ll read it over again.”

  But here part of the magic of the Book came into play. You couldn’t turn back. The right-hand pages, the ones ahead, could be turned; the left-hand pages could not.

  “Oh, what a shame!” said Lucy. “I did so want to read it again. Well, at least I must remember it. Let’s see . . . it was about . . . about . . . oh dear, it’s all fading away again. And even this last page is going blank. This is a very queer book. How can I have forgotten? It was about a cup and a sword and a tree and a green hill, I know that much. But I can’t remember and what shall I do?”

  And she never could remember; and ever since that day what Lucy means by a good story is a story which reminds her of the forgotten story in the Magician’s Book.

  —The Voyage of the Dawn Treader

  Why do you think the book does not allow its reader to go back? What is the best story you’ve ever read? Upon rereading, did you love it as much?
/>
  APRIL 20

  Many Sink Down, and Few Return

  AND OUT OF THAT CAVE they passed into another, and then into another and another, and so on till Jill lost count, but always they were going downhill and each cave was lower than the last, till the very thought of the weight and depth of the earth above you was suffocating. . . .

  “One thing I’d like to know,” said Puddleglum, “is whether anyone from our world—from up-a-top, I mean—has ever done this trip before?”

  “Many have taken ship at the pale beaches,” replied the Warden, “and—”

  “Yes, I know,” interrupted Puddleglum. “And few return to the sunlit lands. You needn’t say it again. You are a chap of one idea, aren’t you?”

  The children huddled close together on each side of Puddleglum. They had thought him a wet blanket while they were still above ground, but down here he seemed the only comforting thing they had. Then the pale lantern was hung up amidships, the Earthmen sat to the oars, and the ship began to move. The lantern cast its light only a very short way. Looking ahead, they could see nothing but smooth, dark water, fading into absolute blackness.

  “Oh, whatever will become of us?” said Jill despairingly.

  “Now, don’t you let your spirits down, Pole,” said the Marsh-wiggle. “There’s one thing you’ve got to remember. We’re back on the right lines. We were to go under the Ruined City, and we are under it. We’re following the instructions again.”

  —The Silver Chair

  Confronted with the pessimistic Warden, who keeps repeating that many come down to the underground realm but few return, the normally negative Puddleglum the Marsh-wiggle starts sounding downright optimistic. What might be the reason for this change?