I know the following is a little long, but I have always loved the message C. S. Lewis included in his Narnia Chronicles. This story takes place at the end of the "Last War" and is meant to help us understand why some people can't be helped.... because they won't be helped.
Anyways, enjoy and think a little about what it means to you.
Aslan and the Dwarfs
“I hope Tash ate the Dwarfs too,”
said Eustace. “Little swine.”
“No, he didn’t,” said Lucy. “And
don’t be horrid. They’re still here. In fact you can see them from here. And
I’ve tried and tried to make friends with them but it’s no use.”
“Friends with them!” cried Eustace.
“If you knew how those Dwarfs have been behaving!”
“Oh stop it, Eustace,” said Lucy.
“Do come and see them. King Tirian, perhaps you could do something with them.”
“I can feel no great love for
Dwarfs today,” said Tirian. “Yet at your asking, Lady, I would do a greater
thing than this.”
Lucy led the way and soon they
could all see the Dwarfs. They had a very odd look. They weren’t strolling
about or enjoying themselves (although the cords with which they had been tied
seemed to have vanished) nor were they lying down and having a rest. They were
sitting very close together in a little circle facing one another. They never
looked round or took any notice of the humans till Lucy and Tirian were almost
near enough to touch them. Then the Dwarfs all cocked their heads as if they
couldn’t see anyone but were listening hard and trying to guess by the sound
what was happening.
“Look out!” said one of them in a
surly voice. “Mind where you’re going. Don’t walk into our faces!”
“All right!” said Eustace
indignantly. “We’re not blind. We’ve got eyes in our heads.”
“They must be darn good ones if you
can see in here,” said the same Dwarf whose name was Diggle.
“In where?” asked Edmund.
“Why you bone-head, in here of course,”
said Diggle. “In this pitch-black, poky, smelly little hole of a stable.”
“Are you blind?” said Tirian.
“Ain’t we all blind in the dark!”
said Diggle.
“But it isn’t dark, you poor stupid
Dwarfs,” said Lucy. “Can’t you see? Look up! Look round! Can’t you see the sky
and the trees and the flowers? Can’t you see me?”
“How in the name of all Humbug can
I see what ain’t there? And how can I see you any more than you can see me in
this pitch darkness?”
“But I can see you,” said Lucy.
“I’ll prove I can see you. You’ve got a pipe in your mouth.”
“Anyone that knows the smell of
baccy could tell that,” said Diggle.
“Oh the poor things! This is
dreadful,” said Lucy. Then she had an idea. She stooped and picked some wild
violets. “Listen, Dwarf,” she said. “Even if your eyes are wrong, perhaps your
nose is all right: can you smell that?” She leaned across and held the fresh,
damp flowers to Diggle’s ugly nose. But she had to jump back quickly in order
to avoid a blow from his hard little fist.
“None of that!” he shouted. “How
dare you! What do you mean by shoving a lot of filthy stable-litter in my face?
There was a thistle in it too. It’s like your sauce! And who are you, anyway?”
“Earth-man,” said Tirian, “she is
the Queen Lucy, sent hither by Aslan out of the deep past. And it is for her
sake alone that I, Tirian your lawful King, do not cut all your heads from your
shoulders, proved and twice-proved traitors that you are.”
“Well if that doesn’t beat
everything!” exclaimed Diggle. “How can you go on talking all that rot? Your
wonderful Lion didn’t come and help you, did he? Thought not. And now— even
now— when you’ve been beaten and shoved into this black hole, just the same as
the rest of us, you’re still at your old game. Starting a new lie! Trying to
make us believe we’re none of us shut up, and it ain’t dark, and heaven knows
what.”
“There is no black hole, save in
your own fancy, fool,” cried Tirian. “Come out of it.” And, leaning forward, he
caught Diggle by the belt and the hood and swung him right out of the circle of
Dwarfs. But the moment Tirian put him down, Diggle darted back to his place
among the others, rubbing his nose and howling:
“Ow! Ow! What d’you do that for!
Banging my face against the wall. You’ve nearly broken my nose.”
“Oh dear!”
said Lucy. “What are we to do for them?”
“Let ‘em alone,” said Eustace: but
as he spoke the earth trembled. The sweet air grew suddenly sweeter. A
brightness flashed behind them. All turned. Tirian turned last because he was
afraid. There stood his heart’s desire, huge and real, the golden Lion, Aslan
himself, and already the others were kneeling in a circle round his forepaws
and burying their hands and faces in his mane as he stooped his great head to
touch them with his tongue. Then he fixed his eyes upon Tirian, and Tirian came
near, trembling, and flung himself at the Lion’s feet, and the Lion kissed him
and said, “Well done, last of the Kings of Narnia who stood firm at the darkest
hour.”
“Aslan,” said Lucy through her
tears, “could you— will you— do something for these poor Dwarfs?”
“Dearest,” said Aslan, “I will show
you both what I can, and what I cannot, do.” He came close to the Dwarfs and
gave a low growl: low, but it set all the air shaking. But the Dwarfs said to
one another, “Hear that? That’s the gang at the other end of the stable. Trying
to frighten us. They do it with a machine of some kind. Don’t take any notice.
They won’t take us in again!”
Aslan raised his head and shook his
mane. Instantly a glorious feast appeared on the Dwarfs’ knees: pies and
tongues and pigeons and trifles and ices, and each Dwarf had a goblet of good
wine in his right hand. But it wasn’t much use. They began eating and drinking
greedily enough, but it was clear that they couldn’t taste it properly. They
thought they were eating and drinking only the sort of things you might find in
a stable. One said he was trying to eat hay and another said he had got a bit
of an old turnip and a third said he’d found a raw cabbage leaf. And they
raised golden goblets of rich red wine to their lips and said “Ugh! Fancy
drinking dirty water out of a trough that a donkey’s been at! Never thought
we’d come to this.”
But very soon every Dwarf began suspecting that every other
Dwarf had found something nicer than he had, and they started grabbing and
snatching, and went on to quarreling, till in a few minutes there was a free
fight and all the good food was smeared on their faces and clothes or trodden
under foot. But when at last they sat down to nurse their black eyes and their
bleeding noses, they all said:
“Well, at any rate there’s no
Humbug here. We haven’t let anyone take us in. The Dwarfs are for the Dwarfs.”
“You see,” said Aslan. “They will
not let us help them. They have chosen cunning instead of belief. Their prison
is only in their own minds, yet they are in that prison; and so afraid of being
taken in that they cannot be taken out. But come, children. I have other work
to do.”
Lewis, C. S. (2008-10-29). The Last
Battle: The Chronicles of Narnia (pp. 167-170). HarperCollins.