Once there was a
girl named Rebecca; this is the story of her remarkable adventure. The story begins rather unremarkably, in the little town of Riverview,
with a little girl who loved nothing better than listen to stories; stories of
daring adventure and courage, stories of normal people who find themselves in
extraordinary circumstances, stories of facing challenges, taking risks, and
coming out stronger.
Her favourite place to read and get lost in these stories was in her
cushy blue chair, curled up with her favourite cat, surrounded by shelves and shelves
of her favourite books. It was no secret that she loved reading stories, but
what was a secret (so secret she hardly even knew it herself) was that she
desperately wished she could be brave and full of confidence like the heroes in
the stories. But, this secret aside, she was ever so comfortable and happy in
this room with her cat and her books, and never really wished to leave.
Ever since she could remember, in the corner of the room half-hidden
between the bookcases, stood a beautifully carved wardrobe. She would often
look up while reading and gaze at the wardrobe and let her mind wander. One
day, she put down her book and walked over to the wardrobe. She cracked open
the door and peeped inside. She was immediately swept away by a glimpse of an
incredible adventure that was going on in a world inside the wardrobe. That
glimpse at once lasted a moment and a lifetime. She pulled her head back
breathless, and closed the door.
Over the years she revisited the wardrobe, venturing further and further
in; first just sticking her head around the corner, then walking in but keeping
a firm grip on the door, and always, always returning to her safe comfortable
room. And what a story, what an adventure it was. Through the wardrobe, she
went places she’d never dreamed of, and with the help of others faced
challenges and grew in confidence. She soon discovered that this was not just
any story, but the greatest story ever, told by the greatest story-teller. It
was a story of unquenchable love, ultimate sacrifice, everlasting truth, and
overflowing with hope and peace. And yet, ever a creature of habit, she never
lost sight of the door and always returned to the comfort of her cozy chair before
too long had passed.
One day, the door opened for her to go on an adventure unlike any other
she had been on before. The story-teller invited her to come along, on the
condition that this time she let go of the wardrobe door handle and follow him,
deep inside, far out of sight of her warm chair and her stacks of books. Though
the adventures inside the wardrobe were not always safe, by now she knew that
if she could trust anyone, it was the story teller, so without hesitation, she
said yes. Not once on this adventure did she regret her decision. She found it
wasn’t nearly so hard as she thought it would be. The more she trusted in the
story teller, she better she got to know the story, the more it became less
about her and more about the story teller, and the more she fell in love with
the story.
After being in the wardrobe for a very long time, she started thinking
again about that small room with her comfy chair and her cat, and her books. It
was probably time to be getting back again. Wasn’t it? Back to the
predictability and happiness of what she knew before. There were favourite old stories
on the shelf she was longing to pick up again, and ones with promising titles
she hadn’t yet had time to explore. The desire to return was strong; to breathe
in the reasuring smell of books well loved; books so familiar they were old
friends. Stories that you could just sit and enjoy; that didn’t ask much of you
in return. But she was torn. She would be the first to admit that since stepping
inside and letting go of the door, she had grown and changed more than ever
before, and actually got to be a part of the most remarkable adventure. But it
is time to go back. It must be. Or is it? Was it even possible to go back?
While these thoughts were spinning in her head, the story teller came
over to visit her. Together they went on a walk deep into a beautiful forest
that smelled of old pine and new sunshine. “You can stay here, you know” said
the story-teller. “You don’t have to go back, you can stay here. I would love
nothing more than for you to stay here. You know it won’t be predictable. Some
of those old stories you love you’ll not see again in this life, and some of
those titles you were looking forward to may fade away unopened and untouched.
I can’t tell you where this adventure will bring you, or what the story will
look like on the way. But what I can promise you is I WILL give you all you
need, and more. I promise to give you unshakable confidence, joy so deep that
it will be mistaken for adventurousness, and peace so complete that people will
call you brave. “
She stopped short, and turned to face the story teller. It was as though
all along he had known the desires of her heart. More than that, he knew her
nature, and knew what it would take to coax her out of that room and into true
life. Without saying a word, she nodded once. She dropped her eyes and a tear
slid down her cheek. She had suspected this was coming for a while, but it was still
not easy. She was filled with joy at the thought of spending the rest of her life
in the heart of the story teller’s story, but for a moment, she also mourned
the loss of her room full of books, her cat, her chair; these that had been her
anchor for so long. She knew she was giving up the certainty of ever seeing
them again in this life. To her surprise, she found that that was OK. In fact,
it was more than OK. She felt the cool firm ground beneath her feet, wriggling
her bare toes in the pine needles. As the river flowed alongside the path,
peace flooded her soul. The warm sun lit a spark of joy in her eyes. She turned
back to the story-teller and said, “What’s next?”
And so the story began.
