Ya know, come to think of it, I could post this short story I wrote for a contest a few months back.
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A Humble Fairy Tale.
Once upon a time there lived five young maidens with their mother in a small cottage on the outskirts of a large city. The cottage had only two bedrooms, one for the mother and one for the daughters, the daughters’ room was unusual in appearance for it contained an organized collection of their varied tastes. The kitchen was likewise small but it served them well and the only other room in the cottage served as both a dining room and parlor. Outside the cottage was surrounded by a large garden of flowers, fruit trees, vegetables and useful herbs while farther off stood tall, majestic firs and pines with a stream flowing cheerfully among them and a small footbridge crossing it. Frequently birds, does and fawns, squirrels, chipmunks and many other gentle creatures of the wild visited the cottage, knowing it’s inhabitants were harmless toward them.
The mother was a kindhearted woman of middle-age who took delight in sewing gowns for her daughters, cooking, gardening and studying the Scriptures. She could almost always be found sitting in her rocking chair of an evening reading from the Word of God and meditating upon it or knitting a scarf or pair of mittens or a hat for a poor, shivering person come winter. Her husband had been a woodcutter, in the habit of sharing whatever he had with anyone less fortunate than he and since his sudden death several years ago, she had found comfort in this habit and soon it became one of her many joys in life with which she combated the sorrows she encountered.
The daughters were of such varied characters that strangers often wondered if they were even related to one another. The eldest was a tall woman of twenty-five years who had long black hair but seemed not to notice her own beauty; day by day she left the little cottage and walked the short distance to the city where she worked as a seamstress and as she was a very skillful seamstress, she often came home with her payment in one pocket and a treat for her family in the other but here her good qualities appeared to end for she was coldhearted. She did not mingle with fellow Believers as her mother wished her to nor did she care when a young man offered to walk her home or carry the few groceries she bought home for her mother; she was also distant from her family, rarely joining in on the evening conversations or songs nor {to her mother’s grief} did she take an interest in the Scriptures or church though she attended alongside her family. Her name {ironically} was January.
The second eldest daughter was twenty-three and had long golden hair, fine eyes, a fair complexion and soft hands. She tended to dress in bright colors, the latest cuts and the fanciest patterns, silks, laces and jewelry for the smallest amount of money possible. She did not work like her elder sister but spent her days seated in the parlor working on fancy embroidery or painting a picture of fair maidens with a sea of bright flowers surrounding them, she couldn’t apply herself to her studies when in her teen years and therefore didn’t know whether eight times twenty equaled one hundred sixty or two hundred sixty and her handwriting was all spidery. Also unlike her sister she took a delight in attending church but only to show off her finery for she was very vain and pompous, she enjoyed the envious looks poorer girls sent her way on Sunday mornings and amused herself by laughing quietly at them all through the sermon and aloud on the walk home. Her name was Diane.
The third daughter {at twenty-one years} had neither beauty nor skills but even so she dressed in as much finery as her sister did and gave advise on everything from cooking to cleaning to marriages to house building, it never entered her head that she was more of a hindrance than a help nor would she have listened had anyone dared to tell her so for she heard only what she wanted to hear and nothing more. On Sundays she walked about with her nose in the air and refused to speak with anyone whom she thought beneath her, including the pastor of their little church who talked far too much in her conceited opinion. She was proud and wasn’t afraid to let people know it though she would fly into a horrible fit of anger if they told her she was proud and conceited to her face. Her name was Cyrilla.
The fourth daughter was short of stature with large brown eyes; she too didn’t care about finery but she also didn’t care about giving orders, being seen by strangers or the opinion others held of her for she was a fearful girl of nineteen. Whenever there was a thunderstorm she would rush to the bedroom and hide in the closet, shaking like a mouse till her mother came looking for her or the storm ended, she was timid around people and scared of anything new to her. Her fears were ungrounded yet she still managed to put doubt in her sisters’ minds as to their safety during storms or January’s safety when she worked later than usual. Her name was Nola.
The youngest daughter was only seventeen but she alone was the joy of her mother’s heart. She dressed in plain, simple, modest gowns made by her mother’s hands and did most of the cooking, cleaning, washing, ironing and gardening and assisted her mother with the mending and sewing. She would often carry a basket of food and medicine to one of the poor families living near them and would greatly brighten that family’s day with her simple gifts and kindhearted smiles; she helped her sisters whenever they needed her and comforted Nola as much as she could when the older girl was frightened. Sunday was her favorite day of the week and she was always a welcome sight among the congregation with her mother and daily her sweet voice could be heard singing hymns and psalms as she went about her tasks willingly and cheerfully. Her name was Honora.
One spring day the daughters were all getting ready to go about their regular activities. January kissed her mother good-bye and walked briskly out the door without glancing at the blooming rosebush beside it; halfway down the path she saw a young man dressed in rags with a bloodstained bandage around his head seated on the side of the dirt trail. He raised his head when he heard her coming and asked, “Could you spare a moment for an injured man my lady?”
Without pausing she brushed by him saying, “I cannot for I should be late if I were to stop for but a moment.”
Sighing, the man watched her disappear.
Diane, having need of more lace for a dress her mother was making for her, swept out the door next wearing a fine pink gown and spotless shoes of a pearly color; down the path she saw a young man sitting with his back to a tree. When he heard her approaching he raised his head and asked, “Could you spare a moment for a lost man in need of assistance my lady?”
She nimbly hopped over his out-stretched leg before replying, “Nay for I should dirty myself were I to assist you.”
Sighing, the man watched her disappear.
Cyrilla also was going out shortly after this on the misconception that she was greatly wanted for the arrangements of an upcoming wedding; at the side of the path she saw a young man clothed in rags. When he heard her approaching he raised his dirty face and asked, “Could you spare a morsel of bread for a hungry man my lady?”
Looking down her nose at him she sneered as she went by, “Get a job if you’re hungry!”
Sighing, the man watched her disappear.
Nola could not find her pen and being advised by her mother to run after her sisters to ask one of them to get her a new one, the girl raced out the door with her hair flying out behind her; seeing a strange young man on the side of the path she trembled as she came near. Hearing her approach he raised his head and asked, “Could you tell me where I am my lady?”
“I daren’t for I don’t know you,” she whispered and ran away.
Sighing, the man watched her disappear.
Honora came last, bearing a basket of treats for a poor family and singing to herself as she walked; seeing a young man in rags with his head bandaged on the side of the path she hastened up to him. “Sir, might I be of assistance to you?”
He raised his head and said, “Surely, God Himself has taken pity on me and sent an angel to my aid!”
“Come, good sir, and I will take you to my mother who will kindly receive you and together we will feed you and set you on your way refreshed,” Honora said and took his arm.
“I thank you with all my heart fairest maiden for in ten years of wandering this land I have never met with one so kindhearted and humble as yourself.”
Not knowing what to say Honora smiled and helped him to the cottage where her confidence in her mother proved true and the young man was fed, his head was redressed and he was given provisions for his journey before he left there, refreshed and happy.
The next morning a fine carriage pulled up to the cottage and from it came a young man dressed in rich clothes and having the bearing of a nobleman; he was the prince of the land and his visit took the family by surprise. “I have come to choose a wife for myself at my father’s bidding and one of the maidens here has shown herself worthy to be my queen,” he informed them upon being invited into the cottage.
January, as the eldest, greeted him first upon hearing his announcement. The prince smiled at her and said, “I’m afraid you are not the one for a cold heart makes a poor wife and queen.”
Diane stepped forward and flashed him a dazzling smile. The prince said, “I’m afraid you are not the one either for vanity is not a quality looked for in a queen.”
Cyrilla stepped forward and bowed to him. The prince said, “Neither are you the one for pride goes before a fall they say.”
Nola timidly took a step from her mother’s side, the prince gave her a gentle smile and said, “Nay, neither are you the one for you have never learned to conquer your fears.”
“Do you have another daughter Madame?” The prince asked when no one stepped forward.
“Yes, my youngest is in the garden,” and leading the way she took the prince and her elder daughters into the garden where Honora was singing a hymn and picking thyme.
Seeing the distinguished guest Honora rose and curtsied to the prince before standing with her eyes cast down, awaiting instruction. Stepping toward her, the prince took her hand in his and said, “You are the one for a good wife and queen is always honest, hardworking, very cheerful, kindhearted and caring.”
“Sire, I do not understand,” Honora said, looking up at him.
“Yesterday five maidens passed me on the road, one couldn’t spare me a moment’s time for fear of being late, one for fear of dirtying her gown, one was too proud to even stop and one ran away in fright but the last offered her assistance willingly and brought me here to her mother to care for me and sent me back on my way greatly refreshed and cheered mightily. That maiden stands before you Madame and I have chosen her as my wife,” the prince explained, looking lovingly at Honora who blushed and smiled.
The mother also smiled as tears came to her brown eyes.
“But why her? I earn the family income, I dress in style, I give advise to those in need of it, I stay safe!” The sisters all cried.
“But you aren’t happy nor are you humble before others nor do you love the Lord more than yourselves,” the prince pointed out. The sisters were silenced and the next day Honora and the prince were wed. The girls’ mother remained in her little cottage with her older daughters who tried to fill Honora’s place in the home and where they were visited everyday by the prince and his bride who had a daughter a year after their marriage, they named her Humility and governed her with love till the day they gave her away in marriage to a humble young farmer.
“And whosoever shall exalt himself shall be abased; and he that shall humble himself shall be exalted.”
Matthew 23: 12.
{KJV}
The End.
