Once upon a time a grandma flew across the ocean to accompany two special little girls on a family trip to an amazing land of adventures. It was a land so green it made her eyes pop, so funny it made her teeth curl, so scary it made her shiver from head to toe.
I’m not talking about England, although that is where this magical place can be found. It’s actually The Story Museum, a wonderful little place tucked away behind the spires of Oxford University.
The tale begins much like any other. A long ride in the car, a 15-minute walk that become 35 with numerous bathroom breaks and a rain shower. But as soon as they bought their tickets, the family knew they were in for a treat.
They were greeted at the entrance by a giant of a man with Rasta dreadlocks and colorful tattered clothes. After announcing he was Aladdin, he introduced them to all the lands they were about to visit. Passing through the first door they found themselves in an amazing forest of talking trees. It was indeed magical because the little girls never seemed to hear a word their mother told them as they listened intently on headphones to the stories the trees had to share.
Beyond the Whispering Wood was a portal into the world of comic books. There the children learned to draw cartoon characters while the grown-ups marveled at the displays. Here was a place that celebrated not Spider-Man or the Hulk but Dennis the Menace, the naughty little boy whose superpower was to make everyone laugh.
However, it wasn’t until they passed into the Enchanted Library that the real plot twist occurred.
Up until that moment, Grandma had been very proud of her big eyes, which were all the better to watch the little girls while they spun around the museum with as much gusto as had they been in a tiny shop lined with fragile souvenirs. But as soon as she stepped into the library, she was mystically transported back in time.
Through the dark wood-lined corridors she wandered, a different delight at every turn. Was that the actual dress Alice in Wonderland wore as she tumbled down the rabbit hole? If she listened carefully, she could almost hear Winnie the Pooh playing with Christopher Robin on a bridge over the brook. Copies of her favorite childhood books were lovingly displayed as if they were on the shelf in her old bedroom. Swallows and Amazons reminded her of adventurous trips on a rowing boat while following a carefully drawn map. There was Paddington Bear. Just how did he keep his marmalade sandwiches from getting moldy all those years later?
Grandma wasn’t surprised to see a tribute to Mary Poppins but was delighted to see the original books in their pretty striped covers. An entire room was devoted to Raymond Briggs’ “The Snowman,” a newer book with special meaning because it was her children’s favorite. There were toys to see too, including Sindy, the British, more wholesome version of Barbie, who accompanied her on childhood vacations to Italy dressed as an air stewardess.
Walking down memory lane, she came across a site that made her heart skip a beat. An oak wardrobe with a door ajar. Could it possibly be? As she pushed aside the dusty fur coats hanging on the rail, there was no doubt. The wintry scene beyond could only be the magical kingdom of Narnia. Although the little girls were moderately excited, they couldn’t help but think their grandmother had lost the plot as she let go of their hands to disappear inside.
The grandmother twirled with her arms outstretched in the fake snow. “I’m in ‘The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe!'” she cried with glee. Her euphoria came to an abrupt end when she heard her daughter’s voice calling for Maddie, one of the grandchildren.
“Maddie, Maddie where are you?” her daughter’s voice grew more anxious by the minute.
“She has to be here somewhere, she can’t get out,” said her son-in-law, ever practical.
The spell broken; Grandma realized that Maddie was missing. Guiltily she joined her family as they ran out of the library and back to the comic books, calling all the while.
Oof. She almost ran head long into Aladdin, who she swore had grown into a real giant.
“Can you help us?” Grandma pleaded. “We’ve lost Maddie. She’s only four and we can’t find her anywhere.”
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Although this Aladdin wasn’t able to produce a magic lamp to help them, he was able to use his great height to scan the room. Within minutes Maddie came running along with a broad smile on her face until Mummy scolded her and she burst into tears.
“The problem is, while the grownups are looking up, the children are busy down below,” said Aladdin, with all the wisdom of a man who works in a children’s museum.
Suitably chastised, Grandma led the family back to continue their tour. It ended as always with a visit to the gift shop, where the girls spent three hours perusing every item in search of the perfect souvenir.
In the end, they chose the very things that Grandma herself would probably have chosen herself as a child; a pencil, an eraser and a brightly colored notebook filled with lined pages waiting to be filled with new stories and pretty sketches.
As you might expect, there is a moral to this tale. It’s all very well going back in time but don’t forget to keep an eye on the present. Fortunately, as in all the very best stories, everything ended happily ever after.
Hilary Decent is a freelance journalist who moved to Naperville from England in 2007.