The Conversation in the Garden

His wrists were rubbed raw and sore. He rubbed them gently, trying to encourage the blood to flow once more without irritating the skin further. His feet and shoulders were aching from having walked in the same awkward position for hours and then slept on the hard ground. In fact, Edmund did everything to focus upon his physical ailments. Anything to avoid having to look into the eyes he dreaded facing.

Aslan didn't speak though. He just waited, patiently.

Edmund knew that he would have to look up eventually and face the lion. He kept up the charade for perhaps another minute until he couldn't bear it any longer.

Ironically, when he did meet the tawny gaze, it wasn't nearly as dreadful as he thought it might be. It seemed that his terror of the confrontation had been the main factor causing his reluctance.

Aslan's gaze was depthless. It seemed to look right into his soul and strip bare ever excuse and lie he had ever told. He felt as though he was naked before the great king, and yet, he didn't quail.

Instead, it was as though he came face to face with what he had done and saw the truth of his actions. His reasoning and selfishness were laid out before him. He saw every horrible remark he had made to Lucy. Every time he had snapped at Susan. Every moment he had been jealous of Peter. He saw the petty anger that had provoked him to betray his siblings, all for the sake of some Turkish Delight and the promise of being more powerful than his brother.

Edmund dropped his gaze, overwhelmed with shame.

He had never been one to cry, but now he had to pinch his palm to stop the hotness stinging is eyes.

Eventually he was calm again; he forced himself to look up and meet the penetrating gaze.

"Son of Adam, do you see what you have done?"

Edmund swallowed the huge lump in his throat, "Yes, sir."

Aslan nodded his great head. "I see that you do. How long have you been jealous of your brother?"

"Many years, sir."

"Why do you feel this way?"

"He was always better than me. He outplayed me at cricket, he got higher marks in exams, he was made head boy this year. I just don't feel like I could ever compete with him."

"And why were you cruel to your sisters? Especially Lucy?"

"Because she was smaller. I've been cruel and vile to her at every opportunity because I could never get away with that with Peter … I've been a coward and a bully, sir. I believe she only ever wanted me to play with her and I repay her with … that …"

The hotness returned behind his eyes and he pinched his hand. Hard.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out. "I've been a complete fool, I know I have. I wanted to feel special and the Witch saw straight through me. I'm sorry. I never meant to cause so much harm."

"We often do not know how much damage our selfish actions can cause," the lion replied quietly.

Edmund nodded, hanging his head.

"But we also do not know how much of an impact true contrition can make."

For the first time in ages, Edmund felt his heart give a little leap. He looked up and found a slight warmth in that golden gaze. Aslan's expression was still sombre, but it had softened.

"Son of Adam, true contrition is like a candle light in a darkened room, once it is lit, the blackness is no longer absolute. It provides a means of escape and enables you to find your way out, but I do not say it will be easily accomplished."

Edmund nodded. He released a breath he did not know he had been holding.

"Edmund, my son, I see that you are truly sorry. From now on, you need to put this behind you. It will not be easy, but we will find our way through the dark and out of this seemingly endless winter. There is a way and we will follow it together."

Edmund's heart lightened in a way he had never known. He felt as though an enormous burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He found himself bowing deeply to the lion.

"Thank you, Aslan," he murmured fervently, "thank you."

The lion returned his bow with a grave inclination of his head. "We need never speak of this again," he stated. "Rather, let us move forwards, together."

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'They saw Aslan and Edmund walking together in the dewy grass, apart from the rest of the court. There is no need to tell you (and no-one ever heard) what Aslan was saying, but it was a conversation that Edmund never forgot.'

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, chapter 13.

I have been teaching LWW to 8-9 year olds in English over the past six weeks. They come from Christian, Hindu and Muslim families and yet, these young minds have been enraptured by this wonderful story.

Their task next week is to come up with their version of this conversation and as I was sitting here, thinking about God's grace, I realised that I needed to write this conversation myself, because even though I'm 32, I still need to hear this message and I probably will for the rest of my life!