A Hope-Peace-Joy-Love Story

Long ago, in a kingdom less far away than you might think, a call went out across the land:

Rejoice!  For the long waited return of the Crown Prince has come.  By the order of the Great King, all suitable women of marrying age are invited to gather for inspection in anticipation of a wedding, the likes of which no one has ever seen.  The Crown Prince will choose his Princess-to-be from among his own people.  Rejoice! The promises of a new, golden age are about to be realized.

When Joy heard the news it was a Saturday morning, laundry day.  It literally took her breath away…the news, not the laundry.

Now the news was awesome enough on its own account; but, what caught her breath was the very unusual dream she had received just the night before.

It was still fresh in her mind all these hours later because her beloved Grandmother had returned to bring her a message.  Joy had dearly loved Gran in life and missed her greatly in the seven long years since her death, so she clung to the old woman’s words with a tenacious hope. 

“My child, an unlikely invitation is soon to come your way.  It will both frighten and excite you, but you must not be afraid.  Answer this call.  All will be well with you.”  And with that, she had gone as quickly as she had appeared.

Joy Esperanza De La Paz.  She certainly possessed a name worthy of a princess.  Unfortunately, her best quality, her lovely heart was kept well hidden under layers of frumpy clothes and mountains of work in the form of the laundry and mending and cooking and cleaning that she did for all the neighbors in order to supplement her family’s modest income.  Yes, in the eyes of most, Joy’s regal qualities began and ended with her name.  “Such a shame,” she often thought to herself during despairing moments, “for such a beautiful and consequential name to have been wasted on me.”  Yet, Joy treasured her name, it had been a gift given to her by her Gran after all.  And that is why, despite all the nagging thoughts and insecurities that assured her she was going to make a fool of herself, that Saturday afternoon Joy set aside the unfinished laundry, packed up a few modest provisions and set off.

“Where do you think you are going!?!”  The question stopped Joy in her tracks.  It wasn’t the power of the question that caused her hesitation for by now she had heard those words from many folk ranging from her own mother to those neighbors for whom she worked, to the cruel children in the school yard she had passed on the way to the Court where those who dreamed of becoming the Princess were to gather.  No, the question itself, though the mocking tones in which it had been asked again and again surely stung, the question itself held no power over Joy.  But this man!  This character standing guard with his keen eye at the entrance to the court, he was surely a sight to behold.  He was taller than any man she had every seen and his wild hair and crazy clothing almost distracted her enough to miss noticing his deeply scarred face.  Almost.  And then, there was the half-eaten locust stuck in his unkempt beard.

“I asked you a question, girl!” snarled the man.

Joy stammered back, “Sir, I have come for my audience with the Crown Prince.  I mean no disrespect.  I have come at the urging of my dear Gran.  Please let me in.  I promise, I will stand in the back, well out of everyone’s way.  I don’t ask to be but last in line.”

“Oh, stop your sniveling!”  said The tall man, squinting at her.

“You are filthy, aren’t you!   You will need a bath before you are allowed to stand amongst these noble women.”

“Yes sir,” nodded Joy, well aware she had no place to bathe let alone different clothes to  change into afterward.

“Hold out your hands!” he sniffed again.  “Ack, look at this!  Your hands are cracked and peeling.  You’ve the skin of a snake!  Not to mention that your color is off.”

He took a step back and looked Joy up and down.  “Hmm, you try to hide it with your clothes, but you’re carrying some extra weight around the hips too, eh?”

Joy looked at the ground, tears had begun to run down her cheeks and she was ashamed for him to see her cry.  Then, taking a deep breath, she clung to the words of her Gran and spoke up, “Yes.  I have many shortcomings.  Even more than you have been so kind to point out for me.  Of these I am well aware.  Nevertheless, I have come a long way for my chance for an audience with the Crown Prince.  I intend to enter the court now.  Will you deny me, sir?

Her words appeared to have taken him by surprise, he took half a step backwards before he caught himself and rose to his full, awful height.  Then, placing a hand on Joy’s shoulder he said, “My, my, you’ve got a Spirit about you!  No, I’ll not deny your entrance.  But, neither will I allow you to go inside in such a state.  Come with me.  I’ll have my people run you a bath, set out some fresh clothes and provide you with a bite to eat.

At this, Joy surprised even herself, for she lept up and kissed the man on the cheek before he could protest or protect himself.

Later that evening, Joy slipped into the court to stand in the back.  She didn’t see anyone she knew, not that anyone would have recognized her.  The man’s servants had treated her to pampering the likes of which she had never experienced.  Now, standing in the midst of nobility, she did not look too out of place.  True, the dress the tall man had given her was not as fine as those of the other ladies, but it was in colour such a pure white that it seemed to Joy that she shone.  She felt taller. Clasping her gloved hands, Joy wished that Gran could have seen this.

Just then, the Tall Man marched to the center of the room, plucked the locust from his beard and sucked the remaining juice from it before casting aside the carcass.  Then, in a voice approaching a growl he addressed the assembled hopefuls.  “My name is Jean-Mattheo, Man-at-Arms to his Royal Highness, the Crown Prince.  I have been sent ahead of his grace to prepare his way and to save everyone a lot of trouble.  Look at you!  Aren’t you a sorry lot of soft-living, debutants.  Each of you thinks she has it in her to become Princess to his Grace.  But you are sorely mistaken.  His standards are high and he makes no exceptions.  And yet, gathered here we have a bunch of self-important gossips trying to pass themselves off as future royalty.  Hah!  You make me sick, the lot of you.  I gagged on the stench of hypocrisy even as I neared this room.  I had hoped to find at least a handful of potential matches for my Prince among you.  Alas, where I hoped to find wheat, I see only chaff, fit for the burning pile.  …” 

The tall Man paused a long time.  Casting about the room with his withering stare in the silence.  It was enough to cause most of the young women gathered to shrink out the back door.  But, a few remained, determined to meet their Prince.

“Ah, I see that only the truly virtuous and worthy remain!  Prepare yourselves, the Crown Prince will see you now, one at a time.”

The line moved much more quickly then Joy had anticipated.  Jean-Mattheo’s act had certainly thinned out the crowd, but those that remained had passed, one-by-one, into the inner court at an alarming rate.  Before she knew it, Joy found her turn had come.  She walked nervously forward, towards a plain-looking servant in the middle of the room.  His humble clothing and gentle eyes gave her so much relief that she drew up beside him.

“Pardon me, but, you don’t mind if I pause with you a moment do you?  I am a simple soul who finds her self in a very odd situation, and I could use to catch my breath before I meet his Grace.”

The man simply nodded to her.  Then, after a long moment, he said, “I like your dress.”

“Thank you.  Would you believe it is made of camel hair?”

“Hmm, that would explain the smell,” he giggled. 

“Actually, I’m afraid that’s me.  I’ve always had a nervous stomach, and wild honey doesn’t seem to agree with me.”

“Ha!  I see that Jean-Mattheo has taken a shine to you. … What is your name?”

“Joy Esperanza De La Paz.”

“Well, Joy Esperanza De La Paz, you are stunning!  And you must have a fine character to have gotten past Jean-Mattheo.  I think you have nothing to worry about.  So, are you ready to meet the Crown Prince?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” she gulped.

And with that, the servant took a step closer and extended a rough hand holding it in front of her, waiting for Joy to take it.  A long moment passed.  Slowly, Joy’s eyes began to widen.  She fumbled into her best attempt at a curtsy.   “Your Majesty!  Please forgive my ignorance.  I didn’t…”

He stopped her, “My lady, you’ll have to forgive the roughness of my appearance.  The King thought it best for my preparation for the throne that I spend several years training at a manual trade.  I have always loved making things with my hands, so I chose masonry.”

And with that, he drew nearer still and took up her hand in his.  Smiling into her soul with his Hazel eyes Joy almost lost herself in a swoon.  She only barely regained her wits in time to realize that he was taking a step towards her.  Then, mortified she felt all of her doubts and worries, strong from years of abuse and mistakes, crashing back in on her.  At that moment all she could think to do was to step back in horror.  Struggling to maintain her distance, she began to turn to run away.  For a moment, things went according to plan.  Indeed, her feet fled, taking her with them.  But to her amazement, The Prince’s feet followed.  In perfect, measured, time their feet stepped.  1-2-3.  And before she could catch her breath his strong arms shaped her fleeing and they stepped some more, 1-2-3.  They were dancing.  Incredible!  For what seemed like an eternity, they danced.  Hand-in-hand.  1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3.

Joy’s heart swelled and her mind reeled as she began to imagine their “Happily Ever After”.  But, as she did, her eyes dared to wander up his neck and across his cheek to meet his eyes once more.  And then, it happened.  Somehow, as they closed position, her shoe caught the hem of her gown.  She heard a heart-sickening rip as her world and her body tumbled to the ground.

It took a moment for Joy to realize that she had neither fallen to the ground nor caused her fair partner to fall.  Rather, the Prince had, by some miracle of gracefulness, managed to catch her and keep her intact.  Her dress however, did not fare so well.  To her mounting horror, Joy realized that they now lay in an elegant pool around her ankles.

Ashamed, she first thought she would die, but as the awkwardness wore on, she began to wish she had.  Then, just as quickly as her world had fallen to pieces, the Prince mended it for her.  Looking deep into her eyes, he stood her up, turned her round, and placed a kind hand on her cheek.  “Joy Esperanza De La Paz, I love you, as you are!  Your heart is good and strong, though it is filled with some foolish thoughts.  And, I can tell from your hands that you are not afraid to work hard.  Joy, I would be honored to have you working beside me to better the Kingdom as my Princess.”  And with that, he gestured for a new and properly fitted gown for his beloved.  And they danced well into the night.

Finally, as dawn began to break on the horizon, the Prince stopped, and embracing Joy apologized.  “My time with you is over for now, my love.  I must return to our King to make preparations for our wedding feast.  I may be away for a long time.  Wait for me!  Watch and Hope for me.  I will return.  My love for you is your guarantee.  In the meantime, practice the dances I have taught you this night.  And, when you stumble, as you will from time to time.  Get up, turn around, and…”

“And what?”  Joy asked, straining her ears and eyes as her Prince began to withdraw from her sight.  His merry reply came to her through the night air and gave her such hope, “Why, dance on, my love.  Dance On!”  … 

To be continued…  

Amen.

Author's Note:  This story is my attempt to pay homage to some of the themes interwoven throughout the Old Testament and Gospel passages assigned in the revised common lectionary for year A.  It started out as an attempt to write a "princess story" that I'd be happy to read to my daughter.  The trope of "princess story" is fraught with peril at the best of times, I acknowledge that may be compounded by being written by a middle-aged dude.  On the balance, I like more about the story in its present state than I'd like to change.  Still, there are elements that leave me wondering whether it is my lack of skill, dull imagination, or simply that the trope itself is corrupt beyond redemption.  I invite your honest criticism.