Dear reader, in this episode we really enter the very world created by Clive Staples Lewis in the city of Oxford, England. Guess ownership?

And, please - be warned from the fact that Aslan comes to call somebody home - like that not, please on read not!

VISITOR

A few months had come and gone since that lovely birthday party. I very much appreciated the fine book they had presented me covering some of the names Aslan had used it this world. Even though it was merely a compilation of facts they found in my library, it was academic profound, nothing made up or imagined, but well founded in the sources. They seemed to have organised the Names in their own order of escalating appreciation, ending with Name above all Names – which, by the way was on the page the little sprawled book opened to every time I had a letter from them.

Easter was late that year and it promised to be overflowing with flowers of all sorts. If I only had not so much to do in the garden I would have enjoyed it much more. Now my gardening made me tired. Of course I slept better than during the winter; works makes an excellent reason for good rest, but it began to seem passing my resources. Maybe I would have to move to a place where I would be really taken care of?

I cannot say that the thought refreshed me. But planning a move had not to be done today; neither tomorrow, by the way, as I would enjoy a visit by some distant relatives then. Garden being not too bad looking and house organised, including food to be offered the day after, I went happily to bed early after having set the alarm. Just in case.

However, something woke me up. Opening my eyes, I saw a fire in the hearth, and in the flames did the fauns dance! I should have had paid attention to this and not just enjoyed the show and warmth from the fireplace. You see, without glasses I should not have seen well enough to view such a sight in the first place. But I missed out on it.

Maybe if I had had time to think it over, but that did not happen, as I heard my name being called. Now, I recognised the voice of Him who in my world has another name than Aslan. My heart was filled with such joy that I, without thinking, leapt out of bed to run to him.

Curiously enough, I felt so much stronger, moved so much easier and felt less pain than the day before. Must have been a miraculous sleep I had had, I thought, while running into the living room to met Him I love the most. I fell to my face, worshipping him, drinking in the glory of his divine presence.

Again he called my name, and looking up I saw Him transform into the great Lion. In the process he got transparent and thus I could see the mirror on the opposite wall; or, rather, I saw myself in that mirror. Or,rather, I did not see myself. What I saw was a fifty year younger version of me. In a blink of an eye it was gone and the room filled with the golden light radiating from Aslan himself.

I buried myself in his mane and was filled by joy and hope and felt so loved that I had never doneso in my life ever before.

-"My son," said the Lion. "I have come to take you for a ride."

Maybe I looked surprised, so he continued:

-"You may remember that the kids from Narnia wished to see you. Today is an excellent day for that, so let's go!"

Visiting Narnia would never make any one sad, least of all me; and the fact that I would entertain guests later would be no problem. I knew, of course, that how long I would ever stay in Narnia, the point of return would be no more than seconds after we had left. To this however the Lion seemed to disagree!

He did not speak to me; but rather show me this mornings event as seen through His eyes. I saw myself sleeping peacefully at first. But then my breathing got weaker and weaker and finally it stopped. At that moment I seemed to step out of my body. Or rather, a version of me around his thirties in age occurred in the bedroom, while at the same time my body lay still in my bed. I did open my eyes, to see clearly without glasses, leapt out of bed with no pain or limp, and . . .

-"Yes, my son, I have come to take you Home, "said the voice of the one I loved most of all, and then it changed into Aslans purr and continued telling me that on the way we must visit a certain school in Narnia,where I was expected this very morning.

-"And, yes, my son, in the world you used to live you passed peacefully in your sleep, with no pain and sorrow. And on my way here, I forewarned your relatives, so they will neither be scared nor worried when coming here. They know what to do. Nothing holds you really back here. Maybe you are ready to go?"

I wanted to have a last look at the little house where I have stayed for so long, and was granted that. To my surprise I saw that large part of my library was no longer there. On the other hand my rooms were clean and the garden splendid, so I could always remember my (now former) life here with joy and happiness!

In the next moment I stood beside an old Victorian lamppost, and Aslan asked me to climb up his back for a ride. I can not really describe this; only that if you take half of a flight and half of fast a motorcycle ride; adding a huge feeling of safety and being comfortable – then you may come as close as my words may take us to tell how it was. In the end we arrived.

With a last leap Aslan landed on a large lawn in which end was a huge estate or manor. On its long veranda, covering almost all the side of the house facing the lawn, stood rows and rows of Narnian kids, in all size, shapes and species. In front of them all, on the stairs leading up to the veranda, was the kids I knew so well now, surrounding what must be the main professor or headmaster of this school.

As I slid off Aslans back, I heard Him address all the kids, and their shrieks of joy in response. In a second I was greeted by the group that earlier had visited me. They came down upon me from all sides, showed affection in all possible different ways – and suddenly I felt embarrassed! This should befall Aslan, not me! But when I turned around, he was not there. Ah, well! Aslan is not a tame lion, so of course, he would come and go as he himself wanted!

Now I could only sit it out; all the school wanted to meet me, feel me, talk to me; and then there was a common meal much like a victory banquet of old. We were all happy; and it did not get worse when the great Lion himself showed up. For me that was great, since it relieved me from being the very centre of every bodies attention!

How Aslan managed to minister to all the kids individually I do not know; neither how he could do it in what for me seemed to be such a short time. I used the time by having a chat with the staff, me getting to know as much as they could tell me about the institution; and how it was run. As for its finances; they told me golden balls sometimes were cast into the dining hall when there were great needs. They said they knew not who did this, but I immediately thought of St Nicholas of Myra, our world's origin to the stories of Father Christmas, who used to distribute gold balls by throwing them in via poor peoples windows. However, I thought it not my right to tell!

Suddenly the One who in this world appeared as a Lion stood in front of me in the shape He took in my world. I guessed the kids had asked Aslan to let them see Him that way.

-"My son," He said to me in the voice I so well know from earth, "time has come for you to decide. Do you want to go back to earth and continue your life there for some time more; or do you wish to travel to my country, and see the face of my Father?"

I did not hesitate for a moment. Go back? Were I mad? Ah, no, travel on would be my only choice! I had only one wish though; that as many of my books as possible and suitable should be transferred to the school I was now visiting. It would need it more than any antiquarian bookshop my relatives would give them too.

One I had stated my request, the librarian of the school, a partly greyed furred badger, came forward with a scroll. It showed up to be a letter of donation; and it listed all books the school should now be given according to the will of Aslan. I read it through, and had no objections. No bad books were mistakenly put upon the list. Wanting to sign, one in the entourage of He who in my world is never called Aslan, stepped forward and handed me a ring. A signet ring. After I sealed the donation letter he slipped the ring onto my finger. It was only now I remembered the already gone books from my library! He must had known, must he not.

Time came for farewells. I took farewell of the school; and Aslan (now back in His lion shape) did say farewell to me; until the time we should meet in his country. Then His entourage gave me a long, warm cloak, to wear as part of the trip would be cold. They draw their swords, as part of the trip could possibly be dangerous. In the end, Aslan surprised me (as always, no?) telling me there was to be an escort. It showed up to be the kids who had visited me, and invited me here.

Off we went; through the heavens or the dimensions or whatever it was.