Free A Year with Aslan: Daily Reflections from The Chronicles of Narnia by C. S. Lewis Page B

waterfall. Look! There it is again, it’s floating. We must find out what it is.”
    “Must we?” said Puzzle.
    “Of course we must,” said Shift. “It may be something useful. Just hop into the Pool like a good fellow and fish it out. Then we can have a proper look at it.”
    “Hop into the Pool?” said Puzzle, twitching his long ears.
    “Well how are we to get it if you don’t?” said the Ape.
    “But—but,” said Puzzle, “wouldn’t it be better if you went in? Because, you see, it’s you who wants to know what it is, and I don’t much. And you’ve got hands, you see. You’re as good as a Man or a Dwarf when it comes to catching hold of things. I’ve only got hoofs.”
    “Really, Puzzle,” said Shift, “I didn’t think you’d ever say a thing like that. I didn’t think it of you, really.”
    “Why, what have I said wrong?” said the Ass, speaking in rather a humble voice, for he saw that Shift was very deeply offended. “All I meant was—”
    “Wanting me to go into the water,” said the Ape. “As if you didn’t know perfectly well what weak chests Apes always have and how easily they catch cold! Very well. I will go in. I’m feeling cold enough already in this cruel wind. But I’ll go in. I shall probably die. Then you’ll be sorry.” And Shift’s voice sounded as if he was just going to burst into tears.
    “Please don’t, please don’t, please don’t,” said Puzzle, half braying, and half talking. “I never meant anything of the sort, Shift, really I didn’t. You know how stupid I am and how I can’t think of more than one thing at a time. I’d forgotten about your weak chest. Of course I’ll go in. You mustn’t think of doing it yourself. Promise me you won’t, Shift.”
    —The Last Battle
    Why does Puzzle give in? How do you attempt to get others to do something you know that you should do yourself?

 
    F EBRUARY 28
    We Can Only Ask Him
    W HEN WE CAME BACK FROM That Place, Someone said that the two Pevensie kids (that’s my two cousins) could never go there again. It was their third time, you see. I suppose they’ve had their share. But he never said I couldn’t. Surely he would have said so, unless he meant that I was to get back? And I can’t help wondering, can we—could we—?”
    “Do you mean, do something to make it happen?” [Jill asked.]
    Eustace nodded.
    “You mean we might draw a circle on the ground—and write in queer letters in it—and stand inside it—and recite charms and spells?”
    “Well,” said Eustace after he had thought hard for a bit. “I believe that was the sort of thing I was thinking of, though I never did it. But now that it comes to the point, I’ve an idea that all those circles and things are rather rot. I don’t think he’d like them. It would look as if we thought we could make him do things. But really, we can only ask him.”
    “Who is this person you keep on talking about?”
    “They call him Aslan in That Place,” said Eustace.
    “What a curious name!”
    “Not half so curious as himself,” said Eustace solemnly. “But let’s get on. It can’t do any harm, just asking.
    —The Silver Chair
    Why wouldn’t drawing circles and reciting spells help Eustace and his friend Jill get to Narnia? How would that be different from asking? Do you sometimes find yourself trying to make something happen rather than asking for it outright?

 
    M ARCH 1
    The Ancient Treasure Chamber
    F OR NOW ALL KNEW that it was indeed the ancient treasure chamber of Cair Paravel where they had once reigned as Kings and Queens of Narnia. There was a kind of path up the middle (as it might be in a greenhouse), and along each side at intervals stood rich suits of armor, like knights guarding the treasures. In between the suits of armor, and on each side of the path, were shelves covered with precious things—necklaces and arm rings and finger rings and golden bowls and dishes and long tusks of ivory, brooches and coronets and chains of