I’m writing this book, and illustrating it (someday), for my girls. And for all little girls. You can’t help but notice the “Princess” theme in the world of little girls. It’s not all bad, but I want my girls to know there’s more to this Princess thing than Disney is letting on. They belong to The King, no matter what they’re wearing, or where they live. When I finish this book, I want to publish it and give all the profits to Amazima’s ministry in Uganda. And hopefully someone will read this book to those little Princesses, and tell them they are loved, their Daddy loves them, and He’s coming back for them soon.
This is the story of a Princess, it’s true,
but this Princess was actually quite a lot like you.
She tried to be good, most of the time anyway
and only threw tantrums once or twice a day.
She lived in a castle as most princesses do,
surrounded by toys, even her very own zoo.
Her Daddy’s love for her was never in doubt,
but he’d been away at war so long
Princess Hannah was beginning to act out.
Of course life would have gone on in its usual way
if this princess had only learned how to listen and obey.
The day started out fine, but Hannah was bored
she started to fuss, and time-outs she ignored.
Mother looked at her sternly and said with a frown
“We all do our part, even those with a crown!
Princess or not, all your chores must be done
before you can go out and have any fun!”
“What, no fun?” The Princess rebelled!
She pouted, she fussed, she kicked and she yelled.
No matter how loud or how shrill her tirade
still no one came to the Princess’s aid.
“That’s it. I’m done! They can’t treat me this way!
They’ll all be sorry when I’ve run away!”
A princess, of course, is always well dressed
with closets full of clothes, the finest and the best.
Sneaking out to the stables in velvet and furs,
she saddled her mare and put on her spurs.
Not leaving a note, not saying goodbye,
with no thought of her mother
or the tears she would cry,
the Princess rode nimbly on through the trees,
until at long last she could smell the sea breeze.
“Freedom at last!” she thought with a laugh
as she came to the gate hidden in the path.
And then she was free to do whatever she pleased,
with no one to tell her to eat all her peas.
Now was her chance for the life she’d been craving,
no longer would she have to do all that behaving.
Princess Hannah rode on, pell mell, down the street
until she came to a place not quite so elite.
The people were dirty, their houses not nice
in fact she was sure these kids all had lice.
But just when the Princess was about to retreat
her gaze fell upon a small boy named Pete.
His eyes, they were teary, his nose always sneezing
on this cold winter’s day, what kept him from freezing?
Without even a coat, or shoes on his feet
no wonder he’s sick, poor, dirty little Pete.
The Princess’s heart just broke at the sight
of a boy dressed in rags and in such a fright.
An orphan, no doubt, with no one to care
if his nose is all snotty or he brushes his hair.
The Princess, she sniffled, and wiped away a tear
with her fancy kid gloves no worse for the wear.
“Ah ha! That’s it!” She knew then in her heart
how she could help give this boy a head start. (??? this is silly, help here, please??)
She took off her gloves and gave them to Pete,
surely he could trade them for something to eat.
He thanked her and smiled, a smile of pure gold
and off rode the Princess, on down the road.
Princess Hannah rode on, forgetting the cold
until she came upon a woman so old
that wrinkles were etched deep in her face
like canyons and rivers but still there was grace.
She sat in the square, in spite of her age
selling hankies for pennies, her only wage.
The woman worked hard, this work was her art
that no one was buying just broke Hannah’s heart.
She reached in her purse, pulling out all her gold
and placed it in the hands of the woman, so old.
“In trade for the hankie, with flowers and birds.”
The princess bade farewell, without any more words
but the old woman cried, as a single tear fell,
“That girl is a princess, anyone could tell!”
With a purse so much lighter, the Princess rode on
joy filling her heart, though her money was gone.
It wasn’t until she smelled hot apple pie
that her stomache began to give out a cry.
Now, the feeling of hunger was something quite new
to a Princess who rarely even said “Thank you”.
She’d never given a thought to who made the food
that was catered to fit her whim and her mood.
So she didn’t feel rude, not in the least
when she walked up to the cottage
and demanded a feast.
The woman who answered, she wore only rags
and the babe on her hip cried in hiccups and jags.
Bewildered the woman said, “This is our last meal.
but you’re welcome to it, we’ll share it with zeal.”
The Princess, ashamed, realized her mistake
alas, it would seem it was too little too late.
She had no more gold, what else could she give?
The woman before her was barely a girl…
no more than her size, and so with a whirl
the princess exchanged her furs and her dress
for the poor mother’s clothes, which fit, more or less.
The princess rode on, now dressed as a peasant
but soon stopped short at a sight quite unpleasant.
A man walked before her, her Father’s own soldier
wounded in battle, he’d soon die from exposure.
She pulled her horse short, looked into his eyes,
blue eyes, like her Father’s, not one of them dry.
His tears for his family pulled at her heart
and she knew deep inside that she surely must part
with her dearly loved mare, the horse she was given
on the day she turned ten, or was it eleven?
Princess Hannah dismounted with an awkward leap,
said goodbye to her friend and tried hard not to weep.
Giving reigns to the soldier, she turned slowly to go
when he stopped her gently and bowed ever so low.
“My lady, I thank you, with all of my soul.
You may be a peasant, but the Lord sent you, I know.”
Princess Hannah watched sadly as they rode off together,
the soldier and her horse were soon gone forever.
It had been quite a day, and now she was alone
no money, no horse, and her hair all wind blown.
She realized suddenly, she was in quite a pickle…
miles from her home, without even a nickle.
Why, what if she got home and they didn’t let her in!
She didn’t look like a princess, or even her twin!
At this she just blubbered, boo hoo’d, if you will,
at the end of a day that had just gone down hill.
It was then that she heard them, oh glorious sound,
the sound of the trumpets, all playing out loud!
She’d know that sound anywhere, her Father’s band!
The war must be over, then came the command
“All bow for the King! Give praise to our Lord!”
As a great cheer arose, all in one accord.
Their beloved King had come back to his land
after saving his people with his very own hand.
But poor Princess Hannah, she was so ashamed,
what would Papa think of how she’d behaved?
First running away and look at her now
Would the King even know her without her fine gown?
But then with a glance in her general direction
His gaze suddenly stopped, as if he’d seen his reflection.
He leaped from His steed, and running to his love
with kisses gave freely forgiveness undeserving of
“My daughter, my love, everything is just fine,
I’d know you anywhere, I made you, You’re mine.”
Wiping away all the tears, the dirt and the grime
He put her on his steed, and then in no time
they were back at the castle, back home to stay
but she never forgot what she learned on that day…
1 John 3:1
See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!
written by Saundra Traywick, 2012
Oops. I forgot to mention the best part. God gave me this entire story. Really. The story “came to me” during an early morning quiet time with Him. I haven’t rhymed anything since 4th grade. The first night I tried to write it in verse was like pulling teeth. The second night it all just sort of…flowed. I couldn’t stop writing until I was done, I was afraid I’d never be able to rhyme again. If this sounds cheesy, then it’s just proof that what I’m saying is true, I can’t write a lick on my own. I just really hope He helps me with the illustrating part too!