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Cultivating a Narnian Legacy

Never underestimate the power of your legacy to your children

By Maria CalderoniPublished 3 years ago 6 min read
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Cultivating a Narnian Legacy
Photo by Mark Rabe on Unsplash

If I ever needed to join a twelve step program it would surely be for my addiction to books. I don’t ever remember not being able to read and being homeschooled in the 80s when it was not popular. My books and my brothers were my best friends though the order switched from time to time.

I remember the long lazy summers plowing through 3 or 4 or 5 chapter books as I swung lazily in the hammock I had crafted from two ropes and a blanket in our front yard. One of my most prized possessions was my own book light which clipped to the side of a book and allowed me to slip under the covers late late at night to finish whatever tale I was enmeshed in.

My mom liked to say her kids went through libraries not books and in the small towns we lived in or near, it was true. We ate up all the suitable books quickly and were always eager for new one's. Most of my extra money went to guess what? Yeah, books. There was a little Chiristian bookstore a few towns over and I’d save up in preparation for our trips to Trail, eager to descend into the hidden treasure underneath a bigger department store. With a small sign hanging on the street and stairs leading down into what looked like a dark basement, I would run ahead and rush in to find if they had any new additions to my current favorite series.

Raised by conservative Christian parents, there was a longer list of books we were not allowed to read than the list that was deemed acceptable. This fact definitely contributed to the issue of burning through all the area libraries and needing to spend most of my allowance on book buying. By the time I was in fifth grade our own personal library was substantial and it only kept growing.

I still have many of these books in my family library and I often joke, though it’s kind of true that people don’t usually help us move more than once unless they really like us. This year alone, I have passed along over 20 boxes of books and well, we still have a tremendous collection. Some of them still have the old Dewey Decimal labels attached from the year I catalogued every book in the house. I was 11.

One book that stood just out of my reach as a child was, The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. I had friends who mentioned it as their favorite book and I caught a short clip about it on a TV show once. It intrigued me, but as a compliant child I knew it was actually a bad book. There was a witch in it after all and we were not allowed to read anything that had demons or witches. Friends tried to assure me that these were actually written by a Christian, but I was not to be fooled. I stuck to my guns, avoiding the trap of this seductive series. I remember shaking my head when I saw them on my friend Shellee’s dresser, wondering how she could have been fooled into thinking it was a good idea to read about a witch.

* * * * *

Two decades passed, and my then husband, with whom I had discussed my aversion to the C.S. Lewis' books insisted that they were a formative part of his childhood having been read to him and then him reading them himself as bedtime stories. One winter afternoon he came home so excited. He had found an illustrated hardbound version of the entire Narnia series in one book. It was beautiful to look at and had cost him $50.00. I was skeptical, but as our kids were being raised by two parents I reluctantly agreed to his scheme to read this volume out loud every night as a family bedtime story.

(I have tears and goosebumps typing this)

This was our most magical winter. Kevin would make tea for himself and I and something for the kids. They and usually we too would get into our pajamas and then we would convene in the living room with the propane heater pumping out cozy heat. He would snuggle on the couch with one or the other of us and open that hefty book. The kids would crowd close to catch a glimpse of the beautiful drawings and he would read and read.

Our home became Narnia during those toasty evenings and each of the children embodies one of the Pevensie kids. I was drawn in completely and while I felt sadness that I had been missing this richness all these years, the time was perfect and magical and fortuitous. We grew a family culture surrounding Narnia. We had family photos taken in Narnian costumes and when my oldest child turned 16 my husband knighted him with an amazingly realistic replica of Peter Pevinsie’s sword.

The knighting ceremony was part of a family tradition we created of having a blessing for each of our children the year they turned 16. My husband pretended he was going to knight our son with this tiny plastic sword and being a good sport, he kneeled down on the stage in front of the church. Just as he was about to lower the little sword to our son’s shoulder my husband looked at it and shook his head, tossing it dramatically over his shoulder. “This is not the sword for a man!” he exclaimed. And I handed him the hidden Peter sword. Our son looked up in surprise and proceeded to be knighted by his dad.

We have five children, and this was the only Blessing ceremony their dad made it to. He passed away suddenly, a year later, while we were expecting baby number 5. His legacy lives on forever in each of us.

The gift of the Chronicles of Narnia not just as a bedtime story he read but as a life he bestowed on all of it has shaped and altered and continues to provide comfort and purpose and direction to even the little one born three months after he died.

I will forever cherish the winter their dad gathered us together and turned us into Narnians.

Whenever I read or hear the battle cry, “FOR ASLAN and FOR NARNIA!” I don’t just picture the great war in Narnia, I envision my life, my family and I know this is our destiny and Kevin is smiling and watching us, nodding his head in pride at his own beautiful Narnians. And yes, that is a little year you see sneaking out of the corner of my eye..... every single time.

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About the Creator

Maria Calderoni

Born a lover of stories. I love to read, write and tell them. Tales of inspiration, resilience and struggle.

A life long learner, I enjoy nothing more than sharing interesting and useful things I have learned so far.

Please join me.

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