I must say that I've fallen in love. It is a wonderful and marvelous feeling that seems as fragile as a heart spun of glass - you hold it carefully least it be shattered. The world of Narnia is my new love and obsession. For as long as I can remember every time I was sick and had to stay homne from school my mother would bundle me up in a large blanket and place me on the couch (mostly to keep and eye on me) and put in the BBC t.v. version of "the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe." This would enchant me for hours on end, I would be too caught up in the story and the wonder of Narnia to even complain about being sick and how horrible I felt. After the movie ended I would go read as many of the books in the series as I possible could get through. During this time I would wish so desperately that I was Lucy or Susan and that I had an older brother as wonderful as Peter instead of an older sister who acted like Edmund and Eustace. I lay in bed and stared up at the celling and imagined having tea with a faun or going dancing with the Nyiads and the Dyiads. I wanted to be tossed up in the air by Aslan's great paws and caught again only to be sent tumbling down a grassy green laughing so hard that I could barely catch my breath. I wated to fight the White Witch and her evil hords of ogres and goblins, to have an adventure as pure and wonderful as theirs.