A couple of weeks ago, I read “The Leaf by Niggle” aloud to five-year old Felicity. Since I was teaching on the story a few days later, I counted my inspiration to read-aloud as a double win towards homeschooling and teaching prep. Didn’t know that my five-year-old, would once again teach me. Tolkien’s short story follows the life of a Niggle, a painter, who envisions a glorious tree, but only manages to paint leaves, a paltry homage to his vision. About half-way through the story Niggle is sent on a journey, presumably death. After some time in a dismal hospital and workhouse, a train takes him to a familiar green space. As he wanders, wonderingly, he discovers it. The tree. His tree. Felicity turned to me as I read and she said with the joy of discovery in her voice, “Mommy! Did God make his tree real?” “Yes, Felicity. Yes, that is it. That is exactly it.” Tolkien and Lewis both thought that fairy-tales and myths, those bearers of reality, could be understood by child
Christ-follower, Wife, Mom, Writer, Teacher, Homemaker