In a small cottage in the English countryside, the embers of a fire crackled quietly. The warmth from the hearth that had filled the den slowly began to ebb as winter creeped in through the cracks and crevices of the O’Connor home. 

Evangeline O’Connor spun around on the ball of her foot, her white cotton dress swaying as she moved to pick up a fresh log for the dying fire. Placing her hand on the bricks of the fireplace in order to toss the wood in, she noted that they were fairly warm. Still, it wouldn’t hurt her to put on some wool socks. Better to not catch a cold while John was away. Sitting in her olive armchair, Evangeline watched the snow fall steadily out the window, humming parts of her favorite hymns quietly as she pulled socks onto her feet. She knew the sun hadn’t quite set since there was still some light out, but she also knew that it was much too late for little ears to be listening. 

Peeking out from the hallway that led to their bedrooms, young Kieran O’Connor watched his mother spin. He tilted his ear towards her to better hear what she was humming. Jesus What a Friend for Sinners! He didn’t know the words very well, but he recognized the tune. Kieran quite liked when his mother sang to him. It made him feel all warm inside. As he slowly began to inch closer to Evangeline, he watched her delicate hands smooth the lace that lay over the side table. Kieran’s eyes fixated on the gold band that she wore on the fourth finger of her left hand. He didn’t really understand what it meant, but he knew that it was a symbol of the love she shared with his father. Kieran suddenly felt a deep sadness. With each passing day, he only seemed to miss his papa more and more. 

Evangeline went to tug on the table lamp’s pull-chain, but paused abruptly at the sound of small footsteps coming into the foyer. Tippy toes. Little one. Evangeline cocked an eyebrow and, without indicating that she had spotted him, she turned on the turquoise lamp and spoke. 

“Darling boy, why are you out of bed?”

Kieran froze in his place. He’d been caught. 

“I can’t sleep.”

Evangeline turned expectantly towards her son. As Kieran’s chubby hands brushed his black hair away, two pairs of dark eyes locked on each other. 

“And why’s that?”

Kieran took in a shuddering breath, clenching his small fists and wiggling his toes. He didn’t want to make her upset. He looked away from her and down at his feet. He spoke quietly, almost to himself. 

“I miss papa.”

Looking up at the sound of fingers tapping on mahogany, Kieran noted the whispers of a smile turning the corners of his mother’s mouth. He exhaled soundly and shyly returned the smile. 

Being the strong woman she was, Evangeline refused to dwell. They would make it through, together. And so Evangeline stood quickly and smoothed down her apron. She collected her long brown hair and twisted it into a knot that fell instantly when she crouched down in front of her six-year-old son. 

“Me too. Tea?”

“And biscuits.”

Evangeline grinned brightly, buttoning her crimson cardigan before picking little Kieran up in her arms. Her nimble fingers tickled his side and her nose nuzzled his neck. He was warm and almost sticky with sweat from lying under his heavy covers. Laughter bubbled from Kieran’s lips as he kicked his legs playfully, clasping his plump arms around his mother’s neck. Evangeline carried him into the kitchen. Resting on her hip, and with his fingers in her soft hair, Kieran watched her put the tea kettle on the stove. Yes, they would be just fine. 

“Go on and get the biscuits. You can grab some Gouda from the icebox too. You like cheese, don’t you, mouse?”

“Yes! I love, love, looove cheese!”

Hmm, the poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese. Evangeline puckered her lips in amusement as she let Kieran down gently. He slid down his mother’s side and marched away to retrieve their snacks. Kieran quickly returned with his gatherings and pushed them over the counter that he had yet to look over without help. One day I’ll be big enough. One day. 

“Thank you, kind sir.”

“You’re welcome, my good lady.”

Evangeline placed the biscuits on a ceramic plate and sliced the cheese with a shiny butterknife. As the kettle began to whistle, Kieran watched her attentively. She had begun humming again as she scooped tea leaves out from a pale yellow jar. He watched with sheer fascination as his mother poured the boiling water over a strainer. Into the teacups the chamomile tea went! Weird how the water just changed color… almost like magic! As Evangeline began mixing warm milk and honey into their tea, Kieran remembered that his father had given her that porcelain tea set for her birthday. He liked the royal blue patterns and he always felt extra special, and was extra careful, when she let him drink from them. Evangeline noticed her son watching her with wide, pensive eyes and, in a playful bout, she reached her foot out and wiggled her toe against his tummy.

“Momma!”

Kieran laughed heartily, swatting at her feet, and stepping back. She handed him the plate and, carrying the tea in her own hands, walked back into the den.

“Careful now, dearest. We don’t want to make a mess.” 

He followed after her slowly, inching to the chair step by step and staring intensely at the plate. Evangeline turned to find Kieran still stepping steadily into the room. Overly cautious bean. Her face brightened with delight. 

“Godspeed, little one. Take courage.”

Kieran scrunched up his nose and, quite heartened by his mother’s words, quickened his pace. He made it safely to her knee and pushed the plate onto the table. Evangeline leaned down and, after scooping him in her arms, plopped back into the arm chair. She exhaled loudly and Kieran wondered if she was tired. She was being silly, of course. But he was the type of son to always be concerned for his mother. 

“Blanket?”

“Yes, please.” 

Kieran leaned his entire little body over the armchair and picked up the hefty quilt that he had helped her make. Or at least helped pick out the patterns for. Evangeline wrapped the blanket around them and rubbed her chin against his hair. Kieran wriggled like a worm as she showered his rosy face with light kisses. 

“Momma!”

  She proceeded to blow a raspberry into his round cheeks. In response, Kieran stuck his tongue out at her.

“Ah, perhaps you need to go back to bed.”

“Mother! You started it!”

“Hmm, very well then clever boy. How shall I make it up to you?”

“Maybe you could read to me?”

  Evangeline studied her son’s face closely. He returned her look. 

“Sure, let’s read a little before bed.”

“I’ll go get–”

“Hold your horses, Kieran Reuel. We must first prepare for the journey.”

“Oh, yes.”

They ate and drank of their bedtime snacks in satisfied silence. As Kieran nibbled on a biscuit with small baby teeth, although a few were already missing, Evangeline brushed crumbs from his footie pajamas. She sipped her warm tea with ease. It was lovely. And if John O’Connor were with them, it would be pretty much perfect. 

“I’m all finished! Can I get the book now?”

  Evangeline slowed her movements, amused by Kieran’s eagerness. 

“Mother!”

“Patience is a virtue, little one.” 

  Kieran pouted and Evangeline grinned in return.

“Ah, tantrums get you nowhere.” 

“Mommaaaa!”

  Pleased with her teasing, Evangeline patted her son’s back. Kieran jumped up keenly and crawled out of her lap. To the bookcase he went!

“Hmm, whatever shall we read? A fairy tale? A mystery? How about some Peter Rabbit, eh?” 

“No! You’re being silly.” 

“Well, I’m not a mind reader. How should I know what you want to read?”

“But it’s the same book we’ve been reading every night before bed. Honestly, momma, how could you forget?” 

“Ah, I see. Go on and fetch it then, darling. We don’t have all night.”

  Faster than his legs could carry him, Kieran marched towards the bookcase. He ran his small fingers across many leather spines, delighted by the sensation it sparked on his skin. 

“Careful not to coat your hands with dust, Kieran.”

He lifted his hand and instead searched with his eyes. His face brightened as he spotted the gold lamppost and pretty lettering: The Chronicles of Narnia. Ever so gently, he gripped the top of the spine and pulled the large, red book back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around it protectively and, with great dignity, marched back to his mother’s lap. 

Evangeline took the book gingerly and enveloped Kieran with the blanket. Engrossed in his mother’s movements, Kieran watched as she located a red ribbon that marked where they had stopped reading before. 

“Let’s see. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe...Where did we leave off?”

“Chapter seven! We’ve just met a talking Beaver!”

“Oh yes, here we are, Mr. Beaver’s speaking…”

“Yes, that’s it!”

Once again amused by her son’s eagerness, Evangeline began to read with exceptional ease and animation. Kieran clung to every word as her voice took the shape of each character. He noted the inflection of her voice with great delight. 

“And now a very curious thing happened. None of the children knew who Aslan was any more than you do; but the moment the Beaver had spoken these words everyone felt quite different. Perhaps it has sometimes happened to you in a dream that someone says something which you don't understand but in the dream it feels as if it had some enormous meaning—either a terrifying one which turns the whole dream into a nightmare or else a lovely meaning too lovely to put into words, which makes the dream so beautiful that you remember it all your life and are always wishing you could get into that dream again. It was like that now. At the name of Aslan each one of the children felt something jump in his inside. Edmund felt a sensation of mysterious horror. Peter felt suddenly brave and adventurous. Susan felt as if some delicious smell or some delightful strain of music had just floated by her. And Lucy got the feeling you have when you wake up in the morning and realise that it is the beginning of the holidays or the beginning of summer.” 

Kieran frowned, peering into his mother’s face with growing curiosity. Evangeline simply continued to read, her eyes dancing with glee. What ever did Mr. Lewis mean? Why did Aslan’s name make everyone feel different? Kieran recognized the sentiments that the Pevensies felt but he didn’t quite understand what they meant or what they had to do with Aslan… a very curious thing indeed. 

“Meanwhile the girls were helping Mrs. Beaver...”

Evangeline was reading in a passion, as if she were in a play, switching from costume to costume as she went, but little Kieran was no longer listening. He was lost in a deep reverie that often falls upon thoughtful children. None could really explain what was occurring in his young brain, only that the gears were turning. 

“‘Oh, yes! Tell us about Aslan!’ said several voices at once; for once again that strange feeling—like the first signs of spring, like good news, had come over them…”

At some point, Evangeline had begun reading chapter eight, and finally, her words sunk into Kieran’s ears, stirring his thoughts and feeding the wonder that was growing in his heart. There it was again… the strange feeling, like the first signs of spring, like good news. 

“‘Why don’t you know? He’s the King. He’s the Lord of the whole wood, but not often here, you understand...’”

A king! Kieran’s ears pricked up. His little back straightened and he peeked his head over to look at the open book in his mother’s hands. He had only just learned to read, but he tried to follow along, his young heart beating with anticipation. 

“‘He'll put all to rights as it says in an old rhyme in these parts:— Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight, at the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more, when he bares his teeth, winter meets its death and when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.’”

Evangeline’s voice had risen a bit in excitement and Kieran was quite literally at the edge of his seat. We shall have spring again…

“‘I tell you he is the King of the wood and the son of the great Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea. Don't you know who is the King of Beasts? Aslan is a lion—the Lion, the great Lion.’ ‘Ooh!’ said Susan, ‘I’d thought he was a man. Is he—quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.’ ‘That you will, dearie, and no mistake,’ said Mrs. Beaver, ‘if there's anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they're either braver than most or else just silly.’ ‘Then he isn’t safe?’ said Lucy. ‘Safe?’ said Mr. Beaver. ‘Don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ’Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.’ ‘I’m longing to see him,’ said Peter, ‘even if I do feel frightened when it comes to the point.’ ‘That’s–’”

“Mother.”

Evangeline paused at the sound of Kieran’s voice. She turned her face towards his and furrowed her brows. He had a strange look about him, his eyes wide and bright, his face a bit pale. 

“Yes, poppet? Is something wrong?”

“Yes.”

She didn’t know why but Evangeline suddenly felt frightened. She closed the book and placed her hand on his forehead. No, not unusually warm. Before she could speak, her young son placed his small hand on hers, the one that was still resting on The Chronicles of Narnia. Kieran spoke with pensive tenderness. 

“Why did the Pevensies feel like that when they heard Aslan’s name?”

Evangeline’s heart swelled. Her eyes searched his face, Kieran was solemn and full of wonder. He was so serious it made her want to laugh, but there was something grave in the furrow of his brow that made her remain still. Sometimes he seemed more like a little man to her than her little boy. Lord, give me strength. 

“Because Aslan is the great lion, the King of the wood and the son of the great Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea.”

“No, no, I know that. But why would that matter?”

“Hmm... because he’s the true ruler of Narnia.”

“But the Pevensies aren’t even from there.”

“No… but…Well, in the Silver Chair, which we have yet to read, Aslan tells a character, a Human child who is to go to Narnia much like the Pevensies, that they would not have called to him unless he had been calling to them first. It’s the same way for the Pevensies. Aslan had chosen them for very special reasons.”

“What are those special reasons?”

Evangeline hummed with contemplation and moved to place the book on the table. She adjusted Kieran on her lap and turned her whole body to face him. Kieran’s eyes remained fixed on his mother’s kind face.

“Well, that they may learn from Narnia valuable lessons to return to our world with. That they may heal as a family. That they may each find their own calling. And that they may know and revere Aslan as he knows and guides them, which they come to understand later when he demonstrates the greatest act of love. But we must keep reading first, little one.”

“I see… so is Aslan kind of like the good shepherd, Jesus?”

He really was so clever. Evangeline squeezed him tenderly and pressed her cheek against his hair. Kieran waited patiently. This was critical.

“In this make-believe story he is Him, yes. In The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, which we’ll read later, Aslan tells Lucy and Edmund that he has another name in our world and that they must learn to know him by that name. The very reason they were brought to Narnia was so that by knowing him there for a little, they could know Him better here.” 

“It’s the same for us, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s right, Kieran. We read these books so that our small understanding can better equip us to know the real good news. The different perspective tends to shed light on things we sometimes overlook, don’t comprehend properly, or even forget to appreciate as we should.” 

“I see...Thank you, momma.” 

  Evangeline looked down at him and could tell that the gears and knobs in his young mind and heart were turning and working with diligence. Kieran was deep in thought when his mother nudged him playfully. Evangeline knew it was time to turn in. 

“I think that’s enough for tonight, Kieran Reuel. Let’s get you to bed.”

Without protest, Kieran wrapped his limbs around his mother as she stood from the chair to carry him to bed. He watched the quilt slip onto the ground and with tired eyes kept his gaze on the red book that sat on the table until it faded from view. Once in Kieran’s room, Evangeline lowered him onto his bed. As Kieran crawled under his blankets, Evangeline closed the curtains and turned off his light. She then tucked him in tight and kissed his forehead lovingly. Kieran blew her a small kiss in return. Evangeline began closing the door, her hand twisting the knob as she stepped back. Their eyes met in the growing darkness. 

“Goodnight, momma.”

“Goodnight, beloved.”

Little Kieran waited until his mother’s footsteps faded down the hall. He threw off his blankets, quietly, and stepping lightly to avoid creaking, padded his way to the window. He tugged open the curtains his mother had closed. Moonlight fell upon his small face, filling a fraction of the room with light. He watched the stars twinkle at him and in quiet contemplation, a silence that for a child can only mean the most enlightened of moments. Kieran got on his knees and sat back, putting his small hands together like his father had taught him. He closed his eyes, squeezing his eyelids and furrowing his brows; for he was focusing very hard, putting forth all of his young belief.

He paused. Was it okay to talk to a King like that? Aslan wasn’t a safe lion…but he was a good one. So God too was a good king and He’d understand. Kieran took a deep breath, adopting a noble air and trying to think of how respectfully to speak. He only had to take courage…

“Hello? King? My name is Kieran, although I’m sure you know that since momma says you made me in her belly a long time ago. Did you know that my middle name is Reuel? Father says that means ‘Friend of God,’ so you can talk to me if you want. You know, because I’m your friend…”

  He paused. Was it okay to talk to a King like that? Aslan wasn’t a safe lion…but he was a good one. So God too was a good king and He’d understand. Kieran took a deep breath, adopting a noble air and trying to think of how respectfully to speak. He only had to take courage…

 “I know you must be very busy taking care of papa and all of your creatures this winter. But I was hoping that you could listen to me for a bit. You see, momma and I miss papa and I’d like you to please bring him home safe… There’s something else too. Real small… Momma always says that you are a King, my King, and like my papa too and so I was hoping that you could be with me too…I think I’m supposed to ask if you’d let your Son, Jesus, come into my heart. Could you? I’d really like that. You see, Mr. Lewis wrote that the Pevensies loved Aslan because he loved them first and my mother said that you work the same way. Well, I don’t know if you know this although I suppose you know everything being the Creator of the Universe! But, I love you, a lot a lot, like I love momma and papa. I can’t explain it. But I just know. Like the Pevensies. And I think that means you love me too, my mother says so everyday, that I am a child of God, of the King!”

  In his excitement, Kieran almost forgot how serious his prayer was. His cheeks reddened slightly as his bright smile waned. He really wanted to be like a knight. Brave and strong. But he felt shy…

 “Um…Would you please send your precious Son, the Prince, to be with me? Father always says that I’m one of His sheep, although I don’t really know what that means since I’m clearly a boy! But… he says that Jesus leaves all the other sheep to come take care of me because He’s the good shepherd and he loves me so much… And momma says that Jesus is the best friend, the most dearest friend, we can have… I could really use a friend… If it's not too much to ask... Oh! And please protect our home and keep us warm! And if you're not toooo busy, could you send papa home soon? Whenever you can. Um…”

  Kieran opened an eye slightly, hoping that wouldn’t stop his prayer from getting to the King. He didn’t think God’s messengers could see him in the dark, but they are magical so maybe they could. Hopefully they’d understand that he was only six and couldn’t always remember how he was supposed to say goodbye.

 “Oh! Thank you for your pro- provisions and let thyyy will be done! In… In Jesus’ name I pray, amen.”

  He chewed his lip and mumbled a few more amens for good measure. Just in case. To make up for accidentally opening his eyes.

Through the slight crack of the door, Evangeline peered in and watched her son pray. A small, soft smile spread on her lips. The Lord is good and his steadfast love endures forever. What an image of Christ to be found in the fruit of her womb, the flesh of her flesh. Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven. Indeed. These days it seemed like he taught her more than she taught him. What a gift to behold the faith of a child!

  Evangeline turned the doorknob quietly and finally pulled the door closed. Humming slightly as she walked, her heart filled with the greatest of joys, a delight and contentment so unique it could only come from one place.

“Praise be to the King!”

Kieran heard his mother close the door, or maybe it was the wind, or maybe it was God’s angels. Either way, he jumped up and scrambled into bed. His little heart fluttered with peace and his eyes closed, almost immediately, by themselves, no matter how hard he tried to keep them open. His eyelids drooped heavy and his limbs relaxed. Kieran’s head began to swim with bright images of a fantastical world, a courageous knight in the King’s grand court, a great, roaring lion, and a good shepherd with the kindest of smiles filled all his dreams… Kieran turned and sighed deeply. 

“To the King!”

Though poor on this earth, oh, why should I care?
Since glorious things for me God doth prepare;
Though trials abound, yet, still I may sing:
All glory to God, I’m a child of the King.
I’m a child of the King,
A child of the King:
With Jesus my Savior,
I’m a child of the King