If someone asks you what your favorite book is, you would not only name it immediately but you’d also have visceral feelings that flood your memory. For me, that book is The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis. It  was  my introduction into the world of reading, fantasy, and escape. My beloved second grade teacher read it to us aloud. On some days, we followed along with the book. I was on the edge of my seat listening in anticipation of her storytelling.  I admired my pretty teacher perched so femininely on her chair in her 1970’s glamour.  The story  that unfolded daily and that lovely, healthy teacher was everything I needed in my life at that time. The emotional growth of a student is as critical as the cognitive growth and I was emotionally  immersed into  Lucy’s journey to Narnia. Aslan was the light at the end of the wintery tunnel of Narnian adventures and obstacles.  Lucy encountered so many new puzzles to solve in her dynamics with Mr. Tumnus and the beavers. Those encounters gave me vicarious confidence to tackle my own puzzles, spiritually.

The wardrobe still fascinates me. It’s both claustrophobic and infinite considering it was the siblings portal to Narnia. It may not be ironic that in my adulthood I bought a few vintage wardrobes . What could be better than procuring some vintage fur coats to store inside the wardrobes?  So, I did that, too. Before the wardrobe and the coats, I taught the unit of The Lion, the Witch , and the Wardrobe to my third grade Reading class. I wanted them to feel the crunch of the snow under the feet of  Lucy, Edmund, Susan, and Peter.  I put styrofoam packing “nuts” under a blanket on my classroom floor so my students  could reenact this. I had them taste loukoums with  powdered sugar coating so they could relate to Edmund trying the Turkish Delight. Almost every time I eat loukoums, I think of Edmund being seduced by the power of the intoxicating Turkish Delight that the White Witch tempted him with in her majestic and foreboding sleigh. I can hear the chilling and scary sleigh bells ringing as she approached.

Children enjoy the fantasy of the book without realizing until adulthood that the book is actually an allegory about Jesus’s death and resurrection. The author, C.S. Lewis, has been referred to as a Christian apologetic for his various books. The anthropomorphism of the characters was a  highly entertaining way  to keep children engaged in the plot. Now, as an adult, I’ve had my own epiphanies about the symbolisms in this book and their impact on me.

Lucy, like me, is the youngest child in the family. The children lived in the home belonging to  the wise old man who was the Professor. He was a grandfatherly sort of figure. My siblings and I  also  lived in our grandfather’s house and he represented an elderly, wise  patriarchal figure in our lives. Mr. Tumnus and the beavers were like the relatives in my neighborhood. I visited their  homes and immersed in the dynamics of their families and rituals just like Lucy. Once, I even stayed overnight for a sleepover  when my mother was hospitalized for an operation. On that occasion, I was sheltered by the warmth and affection of  relatives while another neighbor/uncle came over to bring me a toy and check on me. This reminds me of the coziness of the beavers’ dwelling. I remember that toy so well.  Even as a six year old, I knew I was receiving special treatment during that time.

Peter and Susan were definitely my older brother and sister. There was no specific Edmund in my life. Although I had many childhood boy cousins, none of them were as complicated and conflicted as Edmund. The only thing that came close to an Edmund parallel in my life would be childhood uncertainty or phobias. As white as she was, the darkness of the White Witch symbolized the diagnosis and reoccurrence of my mother’s disease.  I think I’m still holding my breath each time the White Witch entered a chapter just as I think I still hold my breath at that childhood angst and uncertainty of that time of Mom’s illness; her “dis-ease”.

Aslan must have represented the Holy Trinity to me. I mean that figuratively and literally. Holy Trinity is the both the name of my church and obviously, the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit.  Aslan symbolized  God, faith, worship, and the beloved priest of my childhood years. He was an elderly, happy, loving, and fatherly man.  His wisdom came in the form of being a priest, teaching us Greek School, Greek dance and lavishing attention and guidance on us. Years later, he married us.

NARNIA. That snowy, white, vast landscape of wonder, magic, good and evil. Problem solving, climax, victory, triumph, struggle, love, fear, faith, salvation…..Narnia is where we go spiritually to bask in salvation and resilience. Adventure, wandering, and curiosity emerges in the newness of every day. We must beware of the White Witches, not be tempted by the vices of Turkish Delight, and we must keep faith in the Aslans of life and the problem solving  of the siblings; Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy. My personal Narnia is Kansas City’s  Loose Park in the wintertime as well as various landscapes nearby. I revisit my second grade self when exploring through these regions. I invite the endless, snowy vista  around me. My spirit stays young in that moment of imagination. I’m so grateful for what that book did for me therapeutically. I welcome the understanding and clarity of the archetypes Clive Staples Lewis created for us. This opportunity to freeze (pun) Loose Park’s Narnia-like imagery came after a long and trying week of weather-related mishaps for us, our youngest son, and an emergency housing relocation. We laughed our way through the tense week and didn’t let the frigid weather deter us from being content. The reward was the appreciation of the utter beauty of Loose Park.

I keep Lucy in my heart and I still look for Mr. Tumnus at the lamppost.

©Gina Michalopulos Kingsley