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

by C. S. Lewis

  The gloomiest of all was Giant Wimbleweather. He knew it was all his fault. He sat in silence shedding big tears which collected on the end of his nose and then fell off with a huge splash on the whole bivouac of the Mice, who had just been beginning to get warm and drowsy. They all jumped up, shaking the water out of their ears and wringing their little blankets, and asked the Giant in shrill but forcible voices whether he thought they weren’t wet enough without this sort of thing. And then other people woke up and told the Mice they had been enrolled as scouts and not as a concert party, and asked why they couldn’t keep quiet. And Wimbleweather tiptoed away to find some place where he could be miserable in peace, and stepped on somebody’s tail and somebody (they said afterward it was a fox) bit him. And so everyone was out of temper.

  —Prince Caspian

  What might you say to Wimbleweather if you were there? Have you ever had a day when everything seemed to go as badly as possible? How did you react?

  MAY 2

  A Very Bad Donkey

  WHERE HAS PUZZLE GOT TO?” said Eustace.

  They all shouted out Puzzle’s name and Jill went round to the other side of the Tower to see if he had gone there.

  They were quite tired of looking for him when at last his large grey head peered cautiously out of the doorway and he said, “Has it gone away?” And when at last they got him to come out, he was shivering the way a dog shivers before a thunderstorm.

  “I see now,” said Puzzle, “that I really have been a very bad donkey. I ought never to have listened to Shift. I never thought things like this would begin to happen.”

  “If you’d spent less time saying you weren’t clever and more time trying to be as clever as you could—” began Eustace but Jill interrupted him.

  “Oh leave poor old Puzzle alone,” she said. “It was all a mistake; wasn’t it, Puzzle dear?” And she kissed him on the nose.

  —The Last Battle

  As Eustace suggests, “I’m not clever” is a kind of refrain for Puzzle. Is this a good enough excuse for Puzzle having allowed the Ape to talk him into impersonating Aslan? Do you have a similar refrain that you use as an excuse to keep from taking full responsibility?

  MAY 3

  The Beautiful Terror

  HE TURNED AND SAW, pacing beside him, taller than the horse, a Lion. The horse did not seem to be afraid of it or else could not see it. It was from the Lion that the light came. No one ever saw anything more terrible or beautiful.

  —The Horse and His Boy

  How can something be both terrible and beautiful? Can you think of anything in our world that might warrant such a description?

  MAY 4

  Falling at the Lion’s Feet

  LUCKILY SHASTA HAD LIVED all his life too far south in Calormen to have heard the tales that were whispered in Tashbaan about a dreadful Narnian demon that appeared in the form of a lion. And of course he knew none of the true stories about Aslan, the great Lion, the son of the Emperor over-the-Sea, the King above all High Kings in Narnia. But after one glance at the Lion’s face he slipped out of the saddle and fell at its feet. He couldn’t say anything but then he didn’t want to say anything, and he knew he needn’t say anything.

  The High King above all kings stooped toward him. Its mane, and some strange and solemn perfume that hung about the mane, was all round him. It touched his forehead with its tongue. He lifted his face and their eyes met. Then instantly the pale brightness of the mist and the fiery brightness of the Lion rolled themselves together into a swirling glory and gathered themselves up and disappeared. He was alone with the horse on a grassy hillside under a blue sky. And there were birds singing.

  —The Horse and His Boy

  What do you think makes Shasta fall at the Lion’s feet? Have you ever sensed another’s greatness in the way Shasta senses Aslan’s?

  MAY 5

  Queen of Narnia, Indeed

  SIRE, THERE IS A MESSENGER from the enemy who craves audience.”

  “Let him approach,” said Aslan.

  The leopard went away and soon returned leading the Witch’s dwarf.

  “What is your message, Son of Earth?” asked Aslan.

  “The Queen of Narnia and Empress of the Lone Islands desires a safe conduct to come and speak with you,” said the dwarf, “on a matter which is as much to your advantage as to hers.”

  “Queen of Narnia, indeed!” said Mr. Beaver. “Of all the cheek—”

  “Peace, Beaver,” said Aslan. “All names will soon be restored to their proper owners. In the meantime we will not dispute about them. Tell your mistress, Son of Earth, that I grant her safe conduct on condition that she leaves her wand behind her at that great oak.”

  —The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

  Why is Mr. Beaver so angered by the title the dwarf uses? What does Aslan mean when he says all names will soon be restored to their proper owners? What significance do names and titles hold in Narnia? How do you see this reflected in our world?

  MAY 6

  Sibling Tensions

  IT WAS A COLD AND CHEERLESS waking for them all next morning, with a grey twilight in the wood (for the sun had not yet risen) and everything damp and dirty.

  “Apples, heigh-ho,” said Trumpkin with a rueful grin. “I must say you ancient kings and queens don’t overfeed your courtiers!”

  They stood up and shook themselves and looked about. The trees were thick and they could see no more than a few yards in any direction.

  “I suppose your Majesties know the way all right?” said the Dwarf.

  “I don’t,” said Susan. “I’ve never seen these woods in my life before. In fact I thought all along that we ought to have gone by the river.”

  “Then I think you might have said so at the time,” answered Peter, with pardonable sharpness.

  “Oh, don’t take any notice of her,” said Edmund. “She always is a wet blanket. You’ve got that pocket compass of yours, Peter, haven’t you? Well, then, we’re as right as rain. We’ve only got to keep on going northwest—cross that little river, the what-do-you-call-it?—the Rush—”

  “I know,” said Peter. “The one that joins the big river at the Fords of Beruna, or Beruna’s Bridge, as the D.L.F. calls it.”

  “That’s right. Cross it and strike uphill, and we’ll be at the Stone Table (Aslan’s How, I mean) by eight or nine o’clock. I hope King Caspian will give us a good breakfast!”

  —Prince Caspian

  Days of eating nothing but apples and now being lost in the woods have taken their toll on the siblings. Why is Peter’s sharpness pardonable? What causes you to lose your temper or act sharp with those you love?

  MAY 7

  The Lion’s Task

  [ASLAN SAID TO DIGORY,] “Now the land of Narnia ends where the waterfall comes down, and once you have reached the top of the cliffs you will be out of Narnia and into the Western Wild. You must journey through those mountains till you find a green valley with a blue lake in it, walled round by mountains of ice. At the end of the lake there is a steep, green hill. On the top of that hill there is a garden. In the center of that garden is a tree. Pluck an apple from that tree and bring it back to me.”

  —The Magician’s Nephew

  Why do you think Aslan charges Digory with this task when it seems the Lion himself could do it, and much more quickly and efficiently? Do you feel charged with certain tasks in the world? If so, what are they?

  MAY 8

  Forget Your Pride and Your Anger

  RABADASH,” SAID ASLAN. “Take heed. Your doom is very near, but you may still avoid it. Forget your pride (what have you to be proud of?) and your anger (who has done you wrong?) and accept the mercy of these good kings.”

  Then Rabadash rolled his eyes and spread out his mouth into a horrible, long mirthless grin like a shark, and wagged his ears up and down (anyone can learn how to do this if they take the trouble). He had always found this very effective in Calormen. The bravest had trembled when he made these faces
, and ordinary people had fallen to the floor, and sensitive people had often fainted. But what Rabadash hadn’t realized is that it is very easy to frighten people who know you can have them boiled alive the moment you give the word. The grimaces didn’t look at all alarming in Archenland; indeed Lucy only thought Rabadash was going to be sick.

  “Demon! Demon! Demon!” shrieked the Prince. “I know you. You are the foul fiend of Narnia. You are the enemy of the gods. Learn who I am, horrible phantasm. I am descended from Tash, the inexorable, the irresistible. The curse of Tash is upon you. Lightning in the shape of scorpions shall be rained on you. The mountains of Narnia shall be ground into dust. The—”

  “Have a care, Rabadash,” said Aslan quietly. “The doom is nearer now: it is at the door; it has lifted the latch.”

  “Let the skies fall,” shrieked Rabadash. “Let the earth gape! Let blood and fire obliterate the world! But be sure I will never desist till I have dragged to my palace by her hair the barbarian queen, the daughter of dogs, the—”

  “The hour has struck,” said Aslan: and Rabadash saw, to his supreme horror, that everyone had begun to laugh.

  They couldn’t help it. Rabadash had been wagging his ears all the time and as soon as Aslan said, “The hour has struck!” the ears began to change. They grew longer and more pointed and soon were covered with grey hair. And while everyone was wondering where they had seen ears like that before, Rabadash’s face began to change too. It grew longer, and thicker at the top and larger eyed, and the nose sank back into the face (or else the face swelled out and became all nose) and there was hair all over it. And his arms grew longer and came down in front of him till his hands were resting on the ground: only they weren’t hands, now, they were hoofs. And he was standing on all fours, and his clothes disappeared, and everyone laughed louder and louder (because they couldn’t help it) for now what had been Rabadash was, simply and unmistakably, a donkey.

  The terrible thing was that his human speech lasted just a moment longer than his human shape, so that when he realized the change that was coming over him, he screamed out:

  “Oh, not a Donkey! Mercy! If it were even a horse—e’en—a hor—eeh—auh, eeh-auh.” And so the words died away into a donkey’s bray.

  —The Horse and His Boy

  How would becoming a donkey be the ultimate doom for Rabadash?

  MAY 9

  Evil Comes to Narnia

  THIS IS THE BOY,” said Aslan, looking, not at Digory, but at his councillors. “This is the Boy who did it.”

  “Oh dear,” thought Digory, “what have I done now?”

  “Son of Adam,” said the Lion. “There is an evil Witch abroad in my new land of Narnia. Tell these good Beasts how she came here.”

  A dozen different things that he might say flashed through Digory’s mind, but he had the sense to say nothing except the exact truth.

  “I brought her, Aslan,” he answered in a low voice.

  “For what purpose?”

  “I wanted to get her out of my own world back into her own. I thought I was taking her back to her own place.”

  “How came she to be in your world, son of Adam?”

  “By—by Magic.”

  The Lion said nothing and Digory knew that he had not told enough.

  “It was my Uncle, Aslan,” he said. “He sent us out of our own world by magic rings, at least I had to go because he sent Polly first, and then we met the Witch in a place called Charn and she just held on to us when—”

  “You met the Witch?” said Aslan in a low voice which had the threat of a growl in it.

  “She woke up,” said Digory wretchedly. And then, turning very white, “I mean, I woke her. Because I wanted to know what would happen if

  I struck a bell. Polly didn’t want to. It wasn’t her fault. I—I fought her. I know I shouldn’t have. I think I was a bit enchanted by the writing under the bell.”

  “Do you?” asked Aslan; still speaking very low and deep.

  “No,” said Digory. “I see now I wasn’t. I was only pretending.”

  There was a long pause. And Digory was thinking all the time, “I’ve spoiled everything. There’s no chance of getting anything for Mother now.”

  When the Lion spoke again it was not to Digory.

  “You see, friends,” he said, “that before the new, clean world I gave you is seven hours old, a force of evil has already entered it; waked and brought hither by this son of Adam.” The Beasts, even Strawberry, all turned their eyes on Digory till he felt that he wished the ground would swallow him up. “But do not be cast down,” said Aslan, still speaking to the Beasts. “Evil will come of that evil, but it is still a long way off, and I will see to it that the worst falls upon myself. In the meantime, let us take such order that for many hundred years yet this shall be a merry land in a merry world. And as Adam’s race has done the harm, Adam’s race shall help to heal it.”

  —The Magician’s Nephew

  How does Digory try to avoid accepting responsibility for his role in bringing the Witch to Narnia? Does the fact that Digory didn’t know the extent of what he’d done provide any excuse for his actions? Why or why not? When have you had to make amends for something you unwittingly set into motion?

  MAY 10

  No Offense . . .

  MEANWHILE,” said the Dwarf, “what are we to do? I suppose I’d better go back to King Caspian and tell him no help has come.”

  “No help?” said Susan. “But it has worked. And here we are.”

  “Um—um—yes, to be sure. I see that,” said the Dwarf, whose pipe seemed to be blocked (at any rate he made himself very busy cleaning it). “But—well—I mean—”

  “But don’t you yet see who we are?” shouted Lucy. “You are stupid.”

  “I suppose you are the four children out of the old stories,” said Trumpkin. “And I’m very glad to meet you of course. And it’s very interesting, no doubt. But—no offense?”—and he hesitated again.

  “Do get on and say whatever you’re going to say,” said Edmund.

  “Well, then—no offense,” said Trumpkin. “But, you know, the King and Trufflehunter and Doctor Cornelius were expecting—well, if you see what I mean, help. To put it in another way, I think they’d been imagining you as great warriors. As it is—we’re awfully fond of children and all that, but just at the moment, in the middle of a war—but I’m sure you understand.”

  “You mean you think we’re no good,” said Edmund, getting red in the face.

  “Now pray don’t be offended,” interrupted the Dwarf. “I assure you, my dear little friends—”

  “Little from you is really a bit too much,” said Edmund, jumping up. “I suppose you don’t believe we won the Battle of Beruna? Well, you can say what you like about me because I know—”

  “There’s no good losing our tempers,” said Peter. “Let’s fit him out with fresh armor and fit ourselves out from the treasure chamber, and have a talk after that.”

  —Prince Caspian

  Why does the Dwarf write off Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy? When have you been underestimated or dismissed in this way? How did you react?

  MAY 11

  The Archery Contest

  NOT HURT, I HOPE, my dear little friend?” said Edmund, panting a little and returning his own sword to its sheath.

  “I see the point,” said Trumpkin drily. “You know a trick I never learned.”

  “That’s quite true,” put in Peter. “The best swordsman in the world may be disarmed by a trick that’s new to him. I think it’s only fair to give Trumpkin a chance at something else. Will you have a shooting match with my sister? There are no tricks in archery, you know.”

  “Ah, you’re jokers, you are,” said the Dwarf. “I begin to see. As if I didn’t know how she can shoot, after what happened this morning. All the same, I’ll have a try.” He spoke gruffly, but his eyes brightened, for he was a famous bowman among his own people.

  All five of them came out into the co
urtyard.

  “What’s to be the target?” asked Peter.

  “I think that apple hanging over the wall on the branch there would do,” said Susan.

  “That’ll do nicely, lass,” said Trumpkin. “You mean the yellow one near the middle of the arch?”

  “No, not that,” said Susan. “The red one up above—over the battlement.”

  The Dwarf’s face fell. “Looks more like a cherry than an apple,” he muttered, but he said nothing out loud.

  They tossed up for first shot (greatly to the interest of Trumpkin, who had never seen a coin tossed before) and Susan lost. They were to shoot from the top of the steps that led from the hall into the courtyard. Everyone could see from the way the Dwarf took his position and handled his bow that he knew what he was about.

  Twang went the string. It was an excellent shot. The tiny apple shook as the arrow passed, and a leaf came fluttering down. Then Susan went to the top of the steps and strung her bow. She was not enjoying her match half so much as Edmund had enjoyed his; not because she had any doubt about hitting the apple but because Susan was so tender-hearted that she almost hated to beat someone who had been beaten already. The Dwarf watched her keenly as she drew the shaft to her ear. A moment later, with a little soft thump which they could all hear in that quiet place, the apple fell to the grass with Susan’s arrow in it.