Twice upon an infinity, in a land very near, there was a princess, as there is wont to be in tales of this sort. (Unless the damsel in distress is a peasant girl, of course, but in this story she is most certainly a princess.)
However, this princess does not turn into an ogre at night, and she does not have long golden hair to let down a window to let a prince rescue her. In fact, this princess is not locked in any kind of tower, so you can get that idea out of your head.
This princess isn’t even pining away for a lover who hasn’t yet come. Why not, you ask? Because this princess already has a husband! And three little children, to boot.
Indeed, this princess (whose name is Jane, by the way) has a very nice, normal life without any big problems. Now, don’t declare her a bore quite yet. I’m well aware that every Good Story must have conflict. You see, her boring life IS the dilemma.
So Princess Jane was standing in her ordinary castle sitting room, looking out the window at the perfectly manicured garden, when she decided it was time to go out and Find An Adventure.
As she paused at the front gate, Jane heard a small voice crying, “Oh, d-d-d-dear, d-d-d-dear!” which was followed very closely by a deep voice saying, “Oh, bother.” The princess turned around to find a small and rather round yellow bear standing in the walkway with an even smaller pink pig beside him. The pig was wringing his hands and the bear was scratching his head.
“Whatever is the matter?” Jane asked.
“It’s my g-g-grandmother,” the pig sobbed. “She’s fallen and she can’t get up.”
“Oh my!” said Jane, because she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
So the three of them hurried along to help the grandmother. That is, the pig and bear hurried with little hoppy, waddley steps and Jane walked in a sort of fast-then-slow-then-fast walk, because she had much longer legs.
The grandmother lived in a house with a long, low front room. The back of the house was bedrooms all piled on top of each other, with stairwells that looked rather like laces on a boot crisscrossing over the back part. It was one of these stairways that she had fallen down and when the group reached her she was mumbling something quite incoherent about a white rabbit and an unending fall.
Between the three of them, they got the grandmother comfortable on the couch. The bear and pig were chattering together and helping the older lady with utmost camaraderie. She looked much better already, and her auburn hair spread behind her, catching the sun. The princess sighed. She wished she had a friend as dear as those three appeared to be, and oh, she did wish she had beautiful hair.
Jane left the woman in the care of her animal friends and wandered down the road. It wasn’t much longer when she overheard a conversation about an event at the very house she’d just left. “A wolf was huffing and puffing as though he was trying to blow it down!” The person laughed. “As if! That house is as old as the hills.”
The princess couldn’t believe it. She’d been that close to excitement. Jane couldn’t help but cry.
“It is a most provoking thing,” a booming voice startled the princess, “when a girl stands sniveling right in the middle of the walkway.”
A huge white egg stood before her, a wide ornamental belt (or perhaps it was a cravat) circling his middle. “Why are you crying?”
Jane looked away. “Oh, don’t bother about me. I’m just plain, boring Jane.”
“Wrong!” The egg crowed.
It is a curious thing about those who startle easily, they spend much of their lives jumping. So it was with Jane, who jumped once again.
“Who just helped the old lady she didn’t know? Who spent the whole day yesterday reading the same book to her toddler?” The egg nodded. “Not thrilling in an adrenaline-rush sort of a way, but exciting just the same. Do you really think God created you with nothing to give the world?”
Now THAT, of course, is the moral of this story.
By this point, I am sure you have become very uncertain about whether or not the princess lives happily ever after. It is my great honor to inform you that--she does.
The author would like to thank all those who wrote the charming tales alluded to in this story, especially A. A. Milne and Lewis Carroll.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
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