AKA: A Really Happy Ending
Once upon a time, there was a princess. She was full of beauty and wisdom. She was friendly and everyone in the kingdom loved her. She was generous and hospitable, and her home was always bussling with guests. She was wise, and many sought her wisdom and confidence.
Then one day, a yogre moved into the kingdom. Like many yogres, when this yogre smiled, it often looked like she sneered, grimmaced, or growled. Because she was a yogre, like her mother and grandmother before her, her countanace was stern. When she laughed, a great "Gur-hoof, gur-hoof, snorrt" could be heard from a great distance, and many in the kingdom slipped silently away upon hearing it.
A yogre knows that she is a yogre, and will generally speak and laugh only with those who do not flee, and let the others go, not wishing to distress them further.
When she spoke, she usually got her words all mixed up, and sometimes made no sense at all. She came from a kingdom much different from this one, and often her speech and manners were misunderstood. She loved this kingdom, though, and so she continued on in it. In it was the air she breathed.
She loved the princess too. From time to time, she would muster up her courage and seek the pricess's wisdom regarding customs of the kingdom. When she did this, she tried really hard to choose her words carefully and not to laugh much so as not to frighten the princess away.
The princess was kind, as well as wise and beautiful, and always stayed long enough to answer the yogre's question. The yogre thought the princess was also brave, for she thought she saw a look of trepidation in the princess's eye whenever they spoke.
Then one day, the yogre, afraid of frightening one of the peasants away, chose herwords frantically rather than carefully, saying in haste, "I love you, don't flee!"
"GARR-UF!" the peasant heard the yogre say, and fled to the princess to confide in her how the yogre had frightened her.
The princess said nothing of this to the yogre.
Then one day, the yogre was walking on a kingdom path, enjoying the life her King had granted her, when she saw one of her peasant friends walking across a bridge. The yogre had seen many of the kingdom peasants walking on this very bridge, although not all of them took that path. The yogre smiled and waved a greeting at her peasant friend, who saw her sneer and heard her say, "Wheeeefle!" She quickly turned away. She did not flee, but stayed on the bridge. From then on, though, that skittish look came upon her whenever the yogre came near.
The yogre loved her friend, and began to worry that she was living on the bridge, instead of traversing on it. The bridge was sturdy, but was not for residing on. So, choosing her words ever so carefully, she began to talk to her friend about the bridge.
"Grr-gar-hooph! Warr!" the friend heard her say, and scurried away to the princess to confide in her how the yogre had frightened her.
The princess said nothing of this to the yogre.
Then one day, they came to gates of the City of which the kingdom was only a reflection. They went in, and they knew, even as they were known. Their King wiped away their tears, and they loved one another perfectly.
2 comments:
I think I am frequently a nogur!
But, I believe I see the gist the of the story as you wrote it.
I also see a meaning in it that I believe God had for me to see. Sometimes nogurs, princesses and peasants are all sisters, they are just too busy seeing if they "appear" to fit the "kingdom pattern" to take time to KNOW and LOVE each other and learn, in the heart, that they are all the same... broken pots, with a Master Potter waiting to shine through the cracks and show HIS wisdom and beauty. Oh for the remembrance that nogurs are very beautiful in His sight... as are peasants and princesses...
No more skittishness. Boldness in beauty!
That was wonderful, Kim.
Post a Comment