The Book

Once upon a time, there lived Three Pretty Girls. They must have been princesses, because their daddy was a King. Each girl held a cherished secret. Each one knew that she was their daddy’s favorite. They knew this, because he told them so. He sat them on his lap one by one and whispered, “Do not tell the others, but you are my favorite.” He told them this many times. They never told each other, for that was their treasure.

The oldest girl was his favorite, because the oldest carries extra responsibilities and burdens for the younger ones.

The middle girl was his favorite, because sometimes the middle one gets smooshed between the other two.

The youngest girl was his favorite, because she was the baby of his family, like he was the baby of his parents’ family.

The Man Who Was a King grasped a Book and taught the Pretty Girls that life is a journey, much like a train ride. He told them to enjoy each stop, not to look only toward the final destination and miss all the scenery and not hear the laughter along the way. He told his princesses, “Do not wish your life away. When you are 6 years old, do not wish to be 7, because when you are 7, you will long for 8, and you will have missed the joy of being 6." They must have heard him, for they always remembered this lesson.

The lesson proved too soon to be an important one. The Man Who Was a King expected to live a long, long time, like the other Men Who Were Kings. Many of them lived to 80 and some of them to 90 years old.

The Man Who Was a King went to work one day in a Faraway Land and did not come home ever again. For a while, the Pretty Girls did not laugh. The Bride of the Man Who Was a King was brokenhearted and would grieve for the rest of her life, for he was her love.

The Pretty Girls watched the Bride cling to the Book. She searched for laughter (because he would have wanted her to). She eventually found it, most often when she was near the Grandbabies, for with them, she could touch a part of him again. (As a gift, the first of the Grandbabies was born on his birthday.)

The Man Who Was a King and his Bride had given each of their daughters her own Book. The Pretty Girls grew up, cradled their babies, and embraced the Book.

Then, there was an awful, awful storm. A storm the Pretty Girls never could have imagined. It lasted for years. The winds howled, and the rain pierced. Each girl clutched her Book. The Book did not stop the storm, because this is not a fairy tale; but the Book brought peace to the Pretty Girls. They sheltered their babies from harm. Most of the time, their babies did not even know that the storm was raging. But it was.

Suddenly, the storm died down. And then it was over.

The Pretty Girls were forever changed by the storm. Not damaged, they were made better. The storm created stronger, yet gentler women who appreciated new days and each other and the laughter of their children. They were less likely to be tripped up by the trivial, since they knew what a true storm looked like. The children were better, too, for having survived the storm. They seemed kinder and less selfish.  

As their parents did, the Pretty Girls gave each child a Book. When the Grandbabies of the Man Who Was a King and his Bride grew up and began the next generation, they held tightly to the Book, for they knew that Happily Ever After--at least on this earth--is just for fairy tales. 

the Bride, the Three Pretty Girls, the Man Who Was a King

the Grandbabies

the first of the next generation