"Fairy tales are more than true; not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten." G.K. Chesterton
This quote was such refreshment to me yesterday in the middle of a day full of obligations that were less than fantastic. It pulled me out of my full-speed-ahead-momness back to a place I enjoy much more - that of my fascination with Fairy Land.
It began much later than many childhood fascinations begin... in seventh grade. Yes, I was the girl who stayed a little girl much longer than everyone else. I haven't made it out of my little girlness yet. But I don't apologize for that. In fact, I think my perspective is valuable to a world sorely in need of enchantment. I won't go into too much detail about the hours I spent at Four Winds, my wood-elf fort, with my friend Emily. You might be too shocked by the elaborate stories we created and my beloved Tom might be too embarrassed by the woman he married. I will say this: that my elf name was Nolie, short for Magnolia, and Emily was Hazel, short for Hazelnut. Our home was in the land of Mithen, which had sadly been taken over by the Gondolins. The palace of Athendorf and Diwen had been destroyed, the elves scattered, and only Hazel and I still lived in the land, trying to make a life for ourselves and hoping beyond hope that one day, the Red Woods would find us. We had a telephone tree named Teleoak who would let us use her root system to transfer messages to other elf communities far away. We made up songs about the days long gone. We searched the ancient palace for the Tree of Records where we found a map (which we had made) showing everything that had existed back in days of yore. We spent so many hours across that barbed wire fence in the neighboring live oak grove that it is my chief memory from that year.
Reading that Chesterton quote yesterday reminded me of this part of myself, reminded me of how much I want to pass that along to my sweet baby Piper. I want her to be quick to see fairies and dragons, not as a way to avoid the world around us, but as a way to truthfully understand it, giving credit to the mystery and wonder that God included when he created the world.
Chesterton fully understood, and has helped me understand, the relationship between fairy land and the world. It exists in the quote above - in the fact that the stories of men defeating dragons don't really have much to do with the dragons themselves except as a way to talk about the huge, scary things we're all up against every day that we need to be brave enough to fight. I'll let Chesterton do the talking for a minute. This is from his magnificent and life changing book, "Orthodoxy":
"My first and last philosophy, that which I believe in with unbroken certainty, I learnt in the nursery... The things I believed in most then, the things I believe in most now, are the things called fairy tales. They seem to me to be the entirely reasonable things. They are not fantasies: compared with them other things are fantastic... Fairyland is nothing but the sunny country of common sense. It is not earth that judges heaven, but heaven that judges earth...I knew the magic beanstalk before I had tasted beans; I was sure of the Man in the Moon before I was certain of the moon... Old nurses do not tell children about the grass, but about the fairies that dance on the grass; and the old Greeks could not see the trees for the dryads."
He goes on to make his point that this childish understanding of the world that attributes everyday things to magic is actually much closer to the way things are than a cut and dry scientific, or shall we say adult, understanding. God seems to be more of a being from Fairyland than a being subjected to the predictability of the world of men. He is inexplicable in every sense of the word.
I am not trying to take a stand against science and being well educated about what we do know about the world by any stretch. But I was reminded yesterday of the existence of dragons in Fairyland. How often do we adults think about that? As I am raising up a little child to love her Lord, I don't want to forget about, as Chesterton puts it, "the ethics of elfland." I believe, as he does, that an understanding of fairies contributes to a fuller understanding of God.
In closing, I would like to relate a scene I saw in the countryside of England a few years ago.
"I do believe in fairies! I do! I do!" I heard children's voices echoing from atop a brick wall. I turned toward the voices and saw three children, a fair distance away, lying in a line on a green hill that ended at a red brick wall. Their feet hung off the edge. As they chanted, they would sit up, one child per sentence. They repeated this game over and over, joyfully reveling in this credo, one I will remember for the rest of my life.
Illustrations by Arthur Rackham.
Chesterton quotes from the chapter in "Orthodoxy" called 'The Ethics of Elfland.'
This quote was such refreshment to me yesterday in the middle of a day full of obligations that were less than fantastic. It pulled me out of my full-speed-ahead-momness back to a place I enjoy much more - that of my fascination with Fairy Land.
It began much later than many childhood fascinations begin... in seventh grade. Yes, I was the girl who stayed a little girl much longer than everyone else. I haven't made it out of my little girlness yet. But I don't apologize for that. In fact, I think my perspective is valuable to a world sorely in need of enchantment. I won't go into too much detail about the hours I spent at Four Winds, my wood-elf fort, with my friend Emily. You might be too shocked by the elaborate stories we created and my beloved Tom might be too embarrassed by the woman he married. I will say this: that my elf name was Nolie, short for Magnolia, and Emily was Hazel, short for Hazelnut. Our home was in the land of Mithen, which had sadly been taken over by the Gondolins. The palace of Athendorf and Diwen had been destroyed, the elves scattered, and only Hazel and I still lived in the land, trying to make a life for ourselves and hoping beyond hope that one day, the Red Woods would find us. We had a telephone tree named Teleoak who would let us use her root system to transfer messages to other elf communities far away. We made up songs about the days long gone. We searched the ancient palace for the Tree of Records where we found a map (which we had made) showing everything that had existed back in days of yore. We spent so many hours across that barbed wire fence in the neighboring live oak grove that it is my chief memory from that year.
Reading that Chesterton quote yesterday reminded me of this part of myself, reminded me of how much I want to pass that along to my sweet baby Piper. I want her to be quick to see fairies and dragons, not as a way to avoid the world around us, but as a way to truthfully understand it, giving credit to the mystery and wonder that God included when he created the world.
Chesterton fully understood, and has helped me understand, the relationship between fairy land and the world. It exists in the quote above - in the fact that the stories of men defeating dragons don't really have much to do with the dragons themselves except as a way to talk about the huge, scary things we're all up against every day that we need to be brave enough to fight. I'll let Chesterton do the talking for a minute. This is from his magnificent and life changing book, "Orthodoxy":
"My first and last philosophy, that which I believe in with unbroken certainty, I learnt in the nursery... The things I believed in most then, the things I believe in most now, are the things called fairy tales. They seem to me to be the entirely reasonable things. They are not fantasies: compared with them other things are fantastic... Fairyland is nothing but the sunny country of common sense. It is not earth that judges heaven, but heaven that judges earth...I knew the magic beanstalk before I had tasted beans; I was sure of the Man in the Moon before I was certain of the moon... Old nurses do not tell children about the grass, but about the fairies that dance on the grass; and the old Greeks could not see the trees for the dryads."
He goes on to make his point that this childish understanding of the world that attributes everyday things to magic is actually much closer to the way things are than a cut and dry scientific, or shall we say adult, understanding. God seems to be more of a being from Fairyland than a being subjected to the predictability of the world of men. He is inexplicable in every sense of the word.
I am not trying to take a stand against science and being well educated about what we do know about the world by any stretch. But I was reminded yesterday of the existence of dragons in Fairyland. How often do we adults think about that? As I am raising up a little child to love her Lord, I don't want to forget about, as Chesterton puts it, "the ethics of elfland." I believe, as he does, that an understanding of fairies contributes to a fuller understanding of God.
In closing, I would like to relate a scene I saw in the countryside of England a few years ago.
"I do believe in fairies! I do! I do!" I heard children's voices echoing from atop a brick wall. I turned toward the voices and saw three children, a fair distance away, lying in a line on a green hill that ended at a red brick wall. Their feet hung off the edge. As they chanted, they would sit up, one child per sentence. They repeated this game over and over, joyfully reveling in this credo, one I will remember for the rest of my life.
Chesterton quotes from the chapter in "Orthodoxy" called 'The Ethics of Elfland.'
My belief in fairies began with Tinkerbell. I would speak boldly to the TV screen when she would ask me to believe in fairies..."I believe, I believe!" The mystical becaome more real as I got older (or am I becoming younger?) At my wedding when hopes and dreams seemed possible. At the birth of my children, when I beheld a new human being, fresh from heaven's arms. At the death of my mother as I watched her pointing to things unseen to me, but she could see, as though the other side was very near. At the wedding of my son and beautiful bride, when the veil between heaven and earth was so thin, I could feel the glorious presence of God. Yeah for Chesterson, yeah for Brynn, yeah for mysteries untold, yeah for expecting to see. Love you Bynn.
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