One day she couldn't take it anymore. She folded her robe, hung her ring, and stepped out of her slippers. She happily donned some old ragged clothes, and crept out of the palace and over the wall. The children were just beginning a game of baseball. Barefoot, the rocks hurt her feet, but she played hard anyway, blistering her hands and falling in the dirt. They played and played, though she grew hungry and tired. Suddenly from the streets the sound of trumpets pierced the air. The King! His Royalty was coming!
The Children ran to the trees and climbed up high to catch one glimpse of His Majesty. The dazed princess climbed, too. As He came by, she cried out "Papa, daddy, I'm over here!" But she was hushed and shushed on every side. "You're not a princess!" the children cried! "Who do you think you are? You're barefoot like us, you're blistered like us, your dirty, sweaty, hungry, tired.. just like Us! You're at the mercy of this world, too! look around and face the facts."
She looked around. They were right. The dirt seemed to stain her deeper than skin. Her body ached. Her head ached, too, as her expectations of life over the wall fell swift and hard. She began to cry as she realized all she had given up. What was she thinking? She was crushed.
Just then, a hush fell among the children and their biting remarks died away. A shadow fell over her, and she looked up to see the King himself hold out his hand. "My daughter" he cried. "My little one. Come!" And she did. She fell into her daddy's arms and cried into his shoulder. "I'm so sorry daddy. I'm so dirty now.. i can never go back to the palace!"
He smiled, took her hand, and they rode together through the gates, for He had gone out Himself to look for her. She was bathed and scrubbed clean. She slept and was rested. The King Himself came in and placed her feet, bandaged and healing, back into their slippers. He placed the ring back on her finger. He placed the robe about her shoulders so it draped down her back. As He did, He cried out "Let's have a feast and celebrate. For this daughter of mine was dead and is alive again; she was lost, and now, is Found."
Based on the Parable of the Prodigal Son.
this version rewritten from memory, as I don't know where I read it before =)
your thoughts?
posted by jana @ 2:26 PM
2 Comments:
I'm a goober, I figured it out.
Lol, you're not a goober. It isn't tough to figure out =)
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