Inside

One of the things I had to be so careful about while inside The Kilns was taking photos.

Many items are copyrighted. So, needless to say, all photos I took inside will have to stay private for my memories only. SIGH.

Bummer. I would love to show you his desk, the kitchen, bedroom, Eagle and Child sign, his marriage license...the list is endless. Put this tour on your bucket list. You'll be so glad you did.

As we entered, we were ushered into the living room area where I got my first glimpse of  THE DESK. The one where CS Lewis sat in the early morning hours with his cup of tea and wrote.

A discipline I'm trying to emulate.

I imagined him sitting there obeying the call to write. I bet he would be so surprised by all those who dub him their favorite author.

Did you know CS Lewis served in WWI? It's where he met Paddy Moore. The two became fast friends. Each made a pact with one another that should either one die, the survivor would take care of their family.
Paddy Moore did indeed pass, and CS Lewis spent the rest of his life keeping that promise.
He took care of Paddy's mother, Jane. Not an easy feat. Paddy also had a sister named Maureen. Both came to live with CS Lewis and his brother Warnie at The Kilns. There's so much I could say here about that relationship...perhaps in a future blog!

One of many fun facts I learned while visiting...CS Lewis never learned how to type. He always wrote with a dipped pen! Can you imagine?

Here I am in the garden at the Kilns writing in my journal. "I am sitting here on the bench in the garden unable to take it all in. Oh the conversations that must have gone on here..."

After the tour, I wanted to spend some time at his grave site. CS Lewis is buried in the Holy Trinity Church cemetery. There's something personal about standing at the grave of someone who lived such an incredibly rich life. It begs the question. How am I living mine?

CS Lewis was a humble man. He died the same day JFK was assassinated. I think Lewis would say he liked the fact his death went relatively unnoticed. Someone a bit more famous had died, shadowing the famous author's passing.

I've read not more than 30 people attended his funeral. Peanuts compared to what the numbers likely would be if he would have died in this generation.

I think that's why I love him so much. So humble. He simply did the next thing without even thinking the generations after him would keep him on the best selling list continuously. He had no idea his writings would influence so many people. He just simply obeyed his calling and wrote. He did the work of waking in the wee morning hours, brewed a cup of tea, and wrote.

I can only follow his example and write simply because that is what I feel called to do.
Thank you favorite author, for your humble example to persevere in doing the day to day habit of doing the next thing.