The Princess and The Mission: A Parable

By Fran Love, written after years of overseas work, struggling through a dark night of the soul, and realizing, that in order to move into the 2nd half of life with grace, she had to change her mission narrative to a story that healed rather than wounded.

A village deep in the desert of a lonely country was suffering. It had had no rain for 3 years, its crops were failing and the animals were dying. The village sent out an appeal to neighboring countries to share their water and food, but no one wanted to help.  It’s too dangerous, they said.  We won’t have enough for our families, they said.   Pay us money, they said, and we’ll sell you food and water.

But there was one small country which lay just east of the dying village who heard the cries and who agreed to help.  Water and food were in abundance, its people strong and wealthy.  They collected enough money for the dying village to buy food and water for one year.

But who would take the money to the village?  The beautiful Princess, the only child of the country’s King and Queen, volunteered.  She would help, she said.  With tears, the King and Queen watched as the Princess walked out of the Castle.  My, but didn’t she look beautiful.  Such determination in her steps, such dignity in her bearing, such compassion in her face.  Yes, if anyone could help the dying village, it would be their Princess.  

Five hours into her journey, the Princess stopped to rest under the shade of a large tree.  A voice startled her, “Where are you going, miss?” She saw a stern looking young man sitting against the tree’s trunk.  The Princess answered, “To save a dying village.”  Agitated the man sprang to his feet.  “These people are dying, and you want to rest?” he said.  “You cannot rest while others are dying.  You must go faster! You MUST go faster!”

So the Princess went faster.

It was dark when hunger and thirst stopped her.  A small house with warm lights beckoned.  Perhaps here I can get some food and water, the Princess hoped.  She knocked and an old woman with steel gray hair answered the door.  The Princess graciously asked, “I am hungry and thirsty.  Will you share with me your food and water, and then I will be on my way.”  “Where are you going?” the old woman asked.  “To save a dying village,” the Princess replied.  The old woman threw up her arms and exclaimed, “These people are dying, and you want to stop for food and water?  You cannot rest while others are dying.  Shame on you.  Shame on you!”

And so the Princess went away ashamed.

She pushed through the night.  Faster, faster.  Shame, shame.  The voices echoed in her mind.  Just when the morning sun peeked over the flat horizon, the Princess cried, “I must stop.”  She heard someone cough.  Startled she looked around and saw a fat man sitting with a book in his hands, glasses pushed down on his nose.  “Pardon me,” he said, “I couldn’t help overhear you.  May I ask, why it is that you must stop?”  The Princess explained, “I am going to save a village from dying.  But I am tired, hungry and thirsty.  I must rest before I go on.”  “Ha!” the fat man laughed.  “This book I am reading says that the very people you want to help will never change the circumstances that led them to their poverty.  You’ll help them for one year but nothing will change.  They will never grow up. They’ll just use you.  You should be angry at being used.  Angry!”  

So the Princess went away angry.  

She walked faster, ashamed of her own needs, and angry at the village for getting themselves into this situation.

Someone called to her from the side of the road.  “Where are you going?”  The Princess glanced over and saw a smiling man waving at her.  “To save a village from dying,” she yelled angrily. 

“I am going there myself. May I go with you?” the man asked.  The Princess stomped off.  She heard the man run after her and fall into step by her side.  “Whew, you’re going fast,” he panted.  “Why don’t you slow down a bit?”  “I can’t,” she insisted, not looking at him, “a man told me to go faster, and so I am going faster.”  

The man and the Princess walked silently together, slower now, the Princess matching the steps of her strange companion.  “Hey, you wanna eat?” he asked after an hour of steady walking.  “I can’t,” she answered.  “An old woman told me I should be ashamed of wanting to eat when others go hungry.”  

The man said nothing, and together they kept walking toward the dying village.  

“Hey, you wanna hear a joke?” the man asked after another hour of quiet walking.  “I can’t,” the Princess replied.  “I’m angry, and I won’t be able to laugh.”    

Just then she stumbled and cried out as she began to fall.  Quickly her traveling companion seized her and pulled her back up.  He looked at her and said, “Princess, you must rest.”  He picked her up and laid her on his cloak, his bag propped under her head for a pillow.  “Here,” he insisted.  “Drink this cup.  Eat this bread.”   Silently he removed her shoes, and washed her feet, gently rubbing oil into the bleeding cracks.  Her eyes drooped drowsily.  “Sleep,” he murmured.  “I’ll watch over you.  Sleep.”  

And as the Princess slept, the man thought of all the people on the Princess’ journey who had made her go faster, made her feel shame, made her feel anger.  “You just need to rest, my dear,” he said aloud.  And he sang a lullaby over her, and it went something like this:

“Come to me
if you are weary
And I will give you rest.

Learn from me
I’ll teach you gently
And you will be at rest.”

When the Princess awoke she saw the man smiling at her.  She stretched contentedly.  “What a glorious day,” she delighted.  Up she sprang, grabbing her traveling companion’s hand and said, “Let’s go save a dying village.”  Her companion said “Yes, let’s.” And looking up into the heavens, he smiled and winked.