A long time ago in a land far, far away a baby boy came into this world. He was born to a young girl and her carpenter husband. His beginnings could not have been more humble. He was literally born in a barn, his sweet baby cries harmonizing with the voices of the barnyard animals. His bed was a trough, rough and rugged and rustic. There were rumors that he was supposed to one day be a king, but clearly that could not have been further from the truth.
In another distant land, another baby was born. This time a girl. Her beginnings were much different than that of the boy. She lived in a palace and was born a royal. Instead of an animal’s manger, her bed was draped with ruffles and lace. Soft, pink, luxurious. There was no doubt about this little girl’s future. Daddy’s precious princess.
The boy grew up working with his hands, watching and learning from his father. He was intrigued by people, and always seemed to be ahead of his years, asking questions that the adults around him could not answer. Though he loved to play with his brothers, by twelve he was instructing his teachers. An old soul, but a wonderful boy.
She spent her childhood enjoying the “good things” in life. She was doted on by her nannies and pampered by her parents. An only child, she would never want for anything. All that a little girl could ever ask for. Still, there was a longing in her heart from her early years on. A lonely heart, but a sweet girl.
As a teen, he worked hard and played hard. He adored his mother and respected his father. His simple life seemed to bring him joy and he spread that joy to others around him. He began to ask even more questions beyond his years and had an understanding of deep concepts that defied his age. A prince of a boy, but certainly no king.
Her teen years were spent going to parties and balls, the perfect debutante. She was primped and preened and could not have been more beautiful. A princess in every sense of the word . Her world included important people with great influence. But she ached for just a simple friend. A young woman on the outside, but a little girl within.
The boy grew into a man. A man who deeply loved every person he encountered. His trained carpenter hands touched and healed and comforted the sick and needy. People were drawn to him, not because of his appearance or his status, but because of his heart. But there were those who misunderstood his kindness and doubted his intentions. The stature of a man, but the innocence of a child.
The young woman became a grown woman. Her lovely life brought her fame and fortune. She had everything she thought she wanted. Except a friend. She was ostracized either out of jealousy or misunderstanding. Her beauty and possessions no longer made up for the love she lacked. She became withdrawn and bitter and more lonely than ever. The picture of perfection, but in reality, completely broken.
The man had a faithful following. He did things that no one else seemed able to do. He said things that few people understood. And love was behind everything he said and did. He was loved and admired. But there were those who feared his influence. Those who would stop at nothing to make him look bad and hurt him. They mocked him and the thought that he could ever be a king. And his love and humility kept him silent. Even when they took his life. The appearance of death, but in reality, impending life.
The woman tried to escape from her painful life of indulgence. She turned to men to fill the void. When that didn’t work she began drinking to drown out her sorrow. That seemed to have a numbing effect in the beginning, but with time required her to imbibe more and more to get the same relief. She spent more and more time alone. Desperate. Lonely. Dying. Til one day she drank herself into a stupor and fell onto her beautiful bed adorned with draperies and the finest bedding. But the beautiful bed could not erase the ugliness of what she had become. And she drifted into unconsciousness, having given up all hope. An apparent tragedy, but the setting for a surprise ending.
Death would have no victory over this simple, loving man who had never become king. Three days after being buried, he was walking and talking and loving the people who had mourned his death. He received word that there was a princess in another land who was at death’s door. It seemed the only thing that would be able to revive her was love itself. The one and only thing she had lacked in her life. And the one and only thing that he had no shortage of.
He made the journey to her palace. He found her lying on her ornate bed, looking as if it was too late. Her pale complexion and tear stained cheeks told the story of her agony. He sat down next to her, tears in his eyes. She was a girl who did not understand her worth. Who didn’t know that she was worthy of love. He took her hand in his own and gently kissed it. He whispered her name. And for the first time in days, she opened her eyes. She felt the comfort of his touch and could see the love in his eyes. And she saw clearly what so many people before her had not been able to see. Sitting next to her was a true king. A noble man. The one who had saved her very life.
And so the story ends with the ultimate irony. The simple and the lofty reversed. A stable producing a king. A palace producing a pauper. And love producing life.
