THE PRINCE AND THE PARIAHS
By R. Edward Miller
R. Edward Miller April 13, 1989
THE PRINCE AND THE PARIAHS
The royal municipality, located upon the highest hills of the land, shone like a city of golden mansions as the bright early morning sun gilded the stately dwellings. Immense two-leaved gates, gleaming like polished silver, guarded the road that entered the imperial city. One day, just after dawn, the gatekeeper threw wide open those massive gates. In solitary splendor the only prince of the whole realm rode forth out through those silvery gates on his handsome charger. Choosing a road that descended through the deep passes that wound through the magnificent mountains of his kingdom, the Prince continued ever downward through the dark forests.
After fording a deep swirling river that tumbled through the floor of a dark valley, the prince left the mountains and the forests behind as he pressed into the hot, barren plains that lay southward beyond the mountains. In an unhurried manner he purposefully and determinedly persevered on the path which led to the far borders of his father's kingdom.
After many long days of travel, the prince finally crossed a
deep, dry ravine that bordered the province he intended to visit.
When he crossed this boundary he noticed that everything was
becoming strangely darker; even though the sun still shone
brightly as ever, it seemed that the way grew darker. An alien
and dismal gloominess mysteriously overshadowed this province.
Suspicious Sentinels
Wearily pressing on, the prince became aware that unfriendly men
of evil visage were intently watching his progress. Following him
closely, they slipped stealthily through the deep brambles and
tangled bushes. No glad welcome did they show for this stranger
of royal bearing -- the prince of whole realm -- who had come to
visit their hostile land.
As the self-appointed chief of their small province was intensely antagonistic and belligerent to all strangers who entered his territory, the unfriendly and suspicious sentinels watched the prince closely. In spite of the unfriendly and hostile attitude of the evil sentries who observed him, not one of them dared to interfere with the onward journey of the powerful prince. Across a shady glen and onward into the dark and dismal forests that lay ahead, rode the handsome prince. With determination he pressed ever onward towards the principal town of this hostile province that lay on the extreme border of his father's kingdom.
The evil countenances and unwelcoming scowls of the inhabitants of this province made the prince realize the validity of the rumors that had reached the ears of the Great King. Various reports related that this faraway part of his kingdom had risen in rebellion against his father. Rumors persisted in the royal palace that even now some subjects were preparing an open revolt in an attempt to escape from the king's virtuous and equitable rule. Claiming the king's standards for citizenship were too high and difficult to endure, the unruly ones wanted to defect from the true king. They wanted to install their own libertine king who would allow them full freedom to live as profligately as they desired.
Although the king had often sent warnings and advisories to the usurper in this rebellious land, the rebel chief had utterly ignored them all. Because of this, the king's peace-loving and kind son resolved to journey to that faraway province with messages of peace and good will. Once there, this popular youth of great resources would attempt to reconcile and win back the loyalty of those deluded, impoverished and seditious subjects of the Great King.
As the prince continued his journey, it seemed to him that he had journeyed so deep into the dark forest that he had gone beyond the land of the living. So fearfully degraded and depraved were the inhabitants of the rude villages through which he passed, he felt as if he had actually entered the regions of infernal darkness. When at last the noble prince entered the large village of the ruling chief, even his brave heart hesitated in amazement and trepidation. Without a doubt these wicked villagers formed the very lowest scale of rational life, living such an animal-like existence. Governed by pernicious superstitions and filled with mindless wrath, the evil inhabitants' darkened minds plotted evil continuously. Their sinister countenances revealed the venomous wickedness lurking in their hearts.
After politely inquiring of the villagers the way to the dwelling of the chief, the prince approached the ruler who appeared even more depraved and malevolent than his subjects. Presenting himself as the son of the Great King, the prince carefully explained to the chief that he had come bearing a message to the people of that distant province -- a message of peace and good will from their true king.
Unimpressed by the offer of peace and good will, the chief haughtily and ungraciously greeted the prince. When the prince proceeded to present the beautiful and costly gifts his father had amicably sent, the avaricious chief ungraciously and greedily grabbed them. By dissimulating a warm and welcoming attitude, the chief hoped to encourage the prince to produce yet more gifts; but the prince had already given all his father had sent. In disappointment the wicked chief arrogantly and reluctantly gave the prince permission to dwell among his people for as long as his visit should last.
In the days that followed, the prince visited various towns and villages. Patiently he instructed the poor deluded people about the value of uprightness, the ways to peace, and the keys to prosperity according to the beneficent laws of his father's kingdom. Encouraging them to submit willingly to the demands of the Great King, he explained that only by abiding by these right Principles of Living could they ever dwell in peace and true happiness. Also, he warned them that if they continued with their plans of insurrection, they would only bring the wrath and judgment of the Great King upon them -- all of them would perish by sword and fire.
Soon the vigilant spies -- those the wrathful chief had sent to watch the visiting prince -- sent word to their leader that the impoverished villagers eagerly listened to the good-hearted prince and they greatly admired him. Their report was true. His many words of truth, his deeds of compassion and mercy, and his wise teachings were turning many away from all thoughts of insurrection. Instead, many people were now openly expressing their desire to return home with the prince to make peace and to serve his father. In fact, they now openly compared their present ruler most unfavorably with the Great King and his gracious prince.
This startling report stirred the chief into furious anger. In his murderous wrath he plotted the death of the intrusive and meddling prince. "How DARE he come and win the hearts of his people back to the Great King," angrily declared the chief. "How dare he take them away from me -- their mighty chief!" The wicked chief then devised a vile and murderous plan to do away with the prince. He decided that the most propitious time and place would be during the coming annual feast in his own village. In the excitement and restless activity of this grand festival, the prince's death could be easily contrived.
The chief's wicked and avaricious heart conceived a devious plan to coerce from the kind prince any remaining gifts he might have brought with him from his wealthy father. Deceitfully the lying chief said to the prince: "On this coming feast day our custom is to exchange gifts. Surely you -- as our great prince -- would desire to honor his excellency, your father, with a further exchange of royal favors between us."
On the appointed day of the feast, the chief officiously presented a paltry bit of handcraft to the prince; then he greedily awaited the royal munificence of the prince in return. Unfortunately, the chief did not realize that the prince had brought no other gifts with him save those he had already given.
After some thought, the generous and gracious prince wrote a few words on a slip of paper, pricked his finger, and then signed the note with his own blood. Handing it to the chief, he said, "This is the greatest gift in my power to give."
Hastily and greedily the chief read: "TO MY FATHER, THE
GREAT KING: THE BEARER -- OR BEARERS -- WHO PRESENT THIS NOTE
PERSONALLY TO THE KING WILL RECEIVE WHATSOEVER THEY MAY ASK.
SIGNED, YOUR BELOVED SON." After the chief finished reading
the benevolent prince's gracious note, he was beside himself with
rage. His violent purpose to kill the prince was immediately
inflamed and intensified. In the first place, he totally
misunderstood the immense value of the paper signed by the goodly
prince and sealed with his blood. And in the second place, a
sickening dread gripped his mind at the thought of even a
peaceful confrontation with the monarch whose rulership he so
violently hated and determined to overthrow.
Having his eyes utterly blinded by hatred and jealousy, he
totally underestimated the value and power of the prince's note.
The enraged rebel chief determined to kill the prince
immediately. "Surely this is nought but a deceitful
trick!" he reasoned. ". . . If I ever dared to use this
note and approach the palace grounds, without doubt the Great
King would slay me on sight. Then why should I trust this note
his son so theatrically signed with his own blood? My plans have
not changed; I will stay as far away from that mighty king as I
can. I will do my best to carry my rebellion through to a
successful conclusion. I will fight the Great King until all the
people in my province have eradicated the king's total authority
over them."
In his frustration and belief that he had been cheated and mocked, the evil chief hastily crumpled the note and disdainfully threw it under the table. He made no attempt at being grateful. Without fail, he must immediately begin to set in motion his plan for the riddance of this hated prince. As the Great King had destined the prince to take over his throne, someday he would also be king over this rebel province.
"What better way to keep my province than to kill the son and heir of the Great King?" thought the wicked chief as he ordered his servants to their assigned tasks of capturing and destroying the prince. Then a most strange thing happened; almost as though he had received a secret and silent warning, the kind prince suddenly left the feast and disappeared. The seditious rebels of the rebellious kingdom never saw him again.
Escaping from the mutinous provinces, the prince vowed to return one day with his victorious armies and utterly destroy that rebel chief. All the traitorous inhabitants of that province who swore allegiance to their chief would be destroyed also.
Discovering his intended victim's escape, the rebel chief became even more furious. His wrathful ravings and denunciations were terrible as he blamed everyone but himself for the failure of his deceitful plan.
Meanwhile, the little crumpled note signed with the prince's blood had been swept away into the cluttered streets. Now forgotten, the priceless voucher had disappeared into the abundance of the city's trash.
SCAVENGERS
Early the next morning three ugly, destitute and leprous beggar
women -- the pariahs of the town -- came searching for bits of
food and rags among the newly dumped trash from the feast. They
scavenged for anything that would prolong their miserable
existence. How they scratched, searched and quarreled as they
scuttled about.
These pitiful and miserable old wretches -- flotsam cast upon the beach from the Sea of Humanity -- were outcasts from society and pariahs of the town. The three had banded together in a pathetic relationship of mutual pain and misery. Friendless and lonely outcasts. Embittered by life's tragedies. Perverted by vice in their minds. Disillusioned and vengeful in their hurting spirits. These wretched women were nothing but despised and loathsome lepers clinging forlornly to a fragile and flimsy thread of life.
Although two of the ragged women were haggard and disfigured old widows, the eldest of the trio had never been married. She had not even the pitiful rags of widowhood to hide her fallen soul. By her very manner (and the rags she wore), she disclosed her impossible-to-keep secret: she was nothing but a hated and dishonorable woman-of-the-street. The dread leprosy had progressed throughout her being to such a degree that it was difficult for others to look upon her without nausea. Her depraved mind -- as well as her filthy soul and body -- had been completely contaminated by her disfiguring disease. Surely, this one was nought but a repulsive old hag -- a miserable piece of wreckage vomited up by life's seas -- who lay helpless and putrefying on the sands of time. For this pitiful pariah death would be a merciful release -- and the tomb a shroud of decency in which to hide her shameful soul.
As the three continued to search, fight and snarl over bits of food, the eldest old hag -- the vilest of them all -- discovered the crumpled and discarded note. Clutching the paper with claw-like fingers, she slowly read it and then reread it again. Suddenly she stood as if in a trance and stared off into the distance. Standing for a long while in utter silence, she perused a strange memory of the precious secret she held securely hidden in what remained of her heart.
Reaching back into her mysterious closet of hidden memories, she beheld a strange scene. Late one evening, not long before this fateful day, she had seen the handsome young prince walking alone through the dirty lanes near the burial grounds where the lepers always slept. Although villagers always avoided this path, the kind prince had fearlessly traversed it. How vividly she recalled his stopping momentarily to look at HER! How kindly yet strangely he had fixed his compassion upon her. As he smiled at her (and what a warm smile it was) she felt no cruel ridicule nor sneering contempt.
"I wonder . . . was his intense gaze one of sorrow and tender compassion?" she questioned. "It must have been! I've so treasured that one moment of kindness. To me it has been like a casket of precious jewels in the secret recesses of my memory. When the prince turned and moved quietly away, he gave me a friendly wave. I've never seen him again, but here is his name written on this crumpled piece of paper . . ."
Shaken from her reveries, she glanced again at the now grimy slip of wrinkled paper in her hand. Surging up from the depths of her being came the conviction that the note she held in her hands was of supreme value. These were HIS words; this was HIS signature! This promissory note was written by the prince of whom everyone said, "He will not and cannot lie." Furthermore, the paper was signed with the prince's name. Convinced that this note was true and of immeasurable value, the most miserable "pariah of all pariahs" realized that this promissory note meant unlimited riches, food, clothing, respectability and health.
Because she was totally assured of the note's genuineness and priceless value, she convinced and assured her two companions of the scope and meaning of this little slip of paper. Bullying away their doubts and skeptical reluctance, she finally persuaded them to join her on a pilgrimage to the palace of the Great King. "After all," she insisted, "what do we have to lose anyway? Even if we die during the journey, we'll soon die anyway . . . wherever we are."
Wasting no more time on the trash heap, the three old pariahs set out immediately on the long and difficult journey to the palace of the Great King. Although the journey was tediously long and arduous -- and the weary widows were often tempted to turn back -- the eager conviction and solid assurance of the eldest old crone incessantly urged her companions forward. For many scorching days of hunger and thirst they passed through the searing wilderness. Then with great difficulty -- and almost despairing for their lives -- the exhausted women finally managed to cross a turbulent river. Climbing into the high mountains, they followed the road that led steeply upwards to the royal city. Day after day they arduously toiled on toward their goal. Often hungry (because they found so few willing to give them anything to eat), they journeyed wearily on.
Late one evening, the fatigued pariahs finally saw the outline of the lofty spires of the royal castle in the far distance. The glowing lights of the city seemed like myriads of tiny twinkling stars which encouragingly invited them to press on through the late evening dusk.
"Soon . . . oh, so soon . . . will our dreams indeed come true? Will our lives really be changed? Will we soon be possessors of great riches? Will we find genuine acceptance at last?" the outcasts questioned. With keen anticipation the old hags almost ran the remaining miles which separated them from the royal city.
The Royal City
Ignoring the disdainful and contemptuous reception given them by
the shocked, wealthy and cultured populace, the three pariahs
simply set their faces like flint and walked on to the palace. As
they neared their destination they felt desperate and fearful.
"Will we be rejected? Will we be frustrated? Have we taken
this pilgrimage in vain? Will death overtake us at the very gates
of the palace?" So with many distressing doubts and nagging
fears, the apprehensive pariahs hastened on toward the palace
grounds.
At the insistent knocking of the vilest one, the guards finally opened the palace gates. Shocked and utterly astonished at the nauseating sight of these miserable and brazen creatures, the guards tried to send the heavy doors clanging shut. However, having already anticipated such rejection, the eldest had quickly thrust her foot between the doors; desperately she waved the prince's note before the eyes of the amazed guards.
"Wait," she croaked, "I have this draft -- this note from your prince." As the shocked guards read the dirty and crumpled note, they wondered what such loathsome creatures were doing with such a wondrous letter signed by their beloved prince.
Then, against their better judgment and trembling in fear lest there be some terrible mistake, the guards opened the massive doors and allowed the foul creatures to enter the nearby guard house. Ordering the women to stay there until they could consult with the Great King, the guards hastened off to seek help.
One servant called another by ringing a golden bell; that servant told another until at last the message reached the Great King himself. Wondering greatly at the intrusion and audacity at being summarily called to the palace gates, the Sovereign went out to meet the bizarre visitors who demanded to see him.
When the Great King arrived the three old pariahs immediately threw themselves down at his feet. Trembling with fear, they sincerely implored his mercy and pardon; they handed him the tattered note signed by his own son.
Had he not been such a gracious ruler, he would have immediately thrown the three old lepers to the executioner. But his kindness, overcoming his amazement and disgust, caused him to consider the note carefully. As he looked at the signature of his beloved son -- made irrevocable by his precious blood -- astonishment overwhelmed him.
Yes, he did remember the prince's visit to the hostile country and the rebellious plans of insurrection. And he also angrily remembered the miserable reception his son had received. He recalled the note the prince had left there . . . but surely, his son had NOT left it in the hands of such loathsome creatures as these! There remained only one equitable conclusion to the sordid matter: speedily give these three miserable old pariahs what they requested and dispatch them as quickly as possible, lest they contaminate the royal household.
Three Petitions
"Well," said the Great King to the youngest pariah,
"speak up quickly and tell me your request. I will see that
this note is immediately honored." Without any hesitation,
she quickly made known her desires: "Give me as many changes
of raiment as I can carry, healing ointments that will cure my
leprosy, my choice of jewels from the king's treasury and
citizenship in your royal city." Greatly relieved at such a
small request, the king ordered his servants to escort her to his
royal treasury and meet her demands immediately.
Then turning to the second leprous widow, he commanded her to state her desires. Her requirements were similar to those of the first: healing ointments, clothing, and even a diamond-studded coronet. Lowering her eyes shyly, she then added quietly, "I also desire your gracious permission to make my home here in the grounds of your royal palace and to become one of your own servants." This additional request caused some serious reflection on the part of the king.
"Alright," he answered, "I'll grant you that privilege on the condition that you wash daily in the courtyard fountain and never leave the royal grounds." When she happily accepted the king's restrictions, he commanded his servants to carry out every detail of her petition.
With such simple requests, the king had no longer had any apprehensions about the third hag's requests. "Fortunately," he mused to himself, "these ignorant creatures do not understand the limitless scope of this powerful note my son signed and sealed with his blood. What are a few rubies, bejeweled coronets, changes of expensive raiment, dwelling places, citizenship or even servanthood to such a wealthy king as myself?" The king felt greatly relieved by their simple requests knowing that each one of them could have demanded an entire kingdom for herself . . . and even much more.
With an inward shudder, the king finally forced himself to look into the face of the vilest of the three. As his eyes penetrated deeply into her soul, he saw the powerfully etched marks of her shame. Without even asking what her requests were, he ordered his servants to give her the same gifts the two other pariahs had requested.
Even as the king spoke, the vilest hag interrupted him; she refused his gifts. With trepidation, the king silently questioned, "Does this vile bit of human misery somehow realize the limitless scope of this draft upon my munificence and generosity? What more could she possibly want?" Hurriedly he commanded her be taken to his treasury. But even as she longingly contemplated the beautiful treasures it contained, she chose nothing.
When the servants brought her back from his treasure house with nothing in her hands, the king insisted, "Well, tell me, what do you want? Name it and my servants will bring it to you. I'm very busy and I don't have much time to deal with these matters myself. You shall have what you ask; I am formally bound by my son's note to give you whatever you desire. Speak up! What is your petition?"
Out of the depths of her shame. Out of her misery and life-long regret. Out of the hurt of an unwanted, unloved and unlovable soul. Out of a deep and hidden longing the old hag burst out, "O King, I want a companion! I have never truly been loved nor have I ever been married. I have never had a home or a family. I've only lived on harsh and loveless streets since my childhood. O Great King, I want a husband!"
Upon hearing the hag's request, the king laughed to himself in relief. "It's only a husband she wants! Easy enough. I'll choose an eligible youth from my kingdom and command him to marry her. This will easily conclude the entire matter!"
But as the king pondered how to choose a husband for her, the leprous old crone spoke again, "Your Majesty, only once in my lifetime has any man ever showed me any consideration or kindness. Just one man ever looked at me with compassion or pitied my vile condition. This man, O King, is the man I love and the one I desire to marry. Furthermore, I have been given to understand that he is free and has not yet married."
"Tell me," replied the king, "who that man is; I will have him brought to you now." To himself the king said, "Apparently this leprous old hag has not yet understood the true value of my son's note." Sighing with relief, he felt immensely relieved and his fears were alleviated once again.
"O kind King, the only man who ever showed me compassion and kindness lives right here in your royal palace. He is your only son, the one you have chosen to be the prince of your kingdom. Your son -- and only your son -- do I truly love and desire for my husband. No other man will I ever accept or love." Astounded! Speechless! Filled with consternation, the king now looked upon the ugly hag with utmost dismay. Imploringly she continued, "Sire, this note says `WHATSOEVER the bearer of this note asks, he shall be given.' Your son, O King, is my only desire -- my only request; I will take nothing less."
Horrified, the Great King immediately sent for the prince. What would his response be to such a preposterous and impossible request? Bewildering silence filled the palace grounds as everyone anxiously awaited the coming of the beloved young prince.
When the handsome prince appeared a short while later, his father showed him the draft drawn on the kingdom (and signed by his own hand), then gravely asked, "Son, is this your signature?"
"Yes, Father," the prince quickly answered. "When I returned from the rebel province, I mentioned that note to you. I had nothing more of my own to give them, so I opened up a way for some of those poor deluded folk to come directly to you."
"Son, do you realize what this despicable woman requested of me -- and also of you? She had the audacity to ask for your hand in marriage! Of all the beautiful maidens in the kingdom, the most miserable one has taken advantage of this . . . this . . . scrap of paper you signed in your own blood. She audaciously asks to become your bride. I cannot answer this petition alone; you, my Son, must either grant her request or repudiate it."
Turning towards that most despicable of all creatures and looking steadfastly into her eyes, the prince plumbed the very depths of the soul of that vilest pariah. His penetrating eyes beheld all the misery, the depravity, the filth, the bitterness and the sorrow within her being. But he also saw something else which appeared strangely out of place -- a brightly shining flame of true and pure love that ardently burned for him secretly in her heart.
Turning slowly to his father he said, "I have given my word -- and that word I must keep. If she will agree to fulfill two conditions, I will accept her as my bride. First, she must bathe in the Eternal Fountain whose waters issue from the springs flowing continuously from beneath your throne. Then she must follow me on a day's journey through the waste and howling wilderness that lies beyond the royal city."
The Crystal Pool
Thinking the prince's terms easy to fulfill, the eldest leper
eagerly assented. Immediately the king's servants led her to the
beautiful fountain in the private royal courtyard. Elaborately
landscaped gardens (whose trees were continuously bearing fruit)
surrounded the fountain. Hastily the king's servants gingerly
picked up the old hag and speedily plunged her into the deep
crystalline waters that were fed by the eternal springs that
flowed ceaselessly from beneath the king's throne. Happily and
thankfully she sank into the depths of the king's own private
fountain whose waters were as clear as amethyst.
As soon as her diseased body touched the waters, she experienced a most peculiar feeling -- an exhilaration, as though these waters were penetrating and cleansing her whole being. Something she could not define concerning the water's purity and power flowed into her mind, soul and heart and lifted her into another sphere. For the longest time she remained under those healing waters; she almost wished never to rise to the surface again. To her, the waters felt like the very elixir of life as they flooded through her being, renewing her every cell, washing away every stain within and without, and curing every hurt and contagion she had ever suffered in heart, mind and body.
After a long while she slowly rose to the surface of the pool. Looking around and seeing no one in the garden, she realized she was alone. As her hand grasped the edge of the fountain she caught her breath; what she saw amazed her. Looking at her hands, she realized they were no longer leprous and deformed; they were as smooth and unblemished as those of a maiden of fifteen. Suddenly she cried out -- startled by seeing her hair falling softly over her shoulders. No longer was it a scraggly, snarled, drab gray mass. A beautiful golden crown, as soft as finest silk, fell gracefully about her shoulders.
How strange she felt! Was this numb, peaceful feeling the absolute absence of pain? How still the waters were! And who was the beautiful young maiden reflected in those crystalline waters? Looking around she saw no one standing beside her. Slowly and poignantly the wondrous truth penetrated her spirit; it enveloped her in an ecstasy she had never known before. That beautiful, ravishing young woman was none other than she herself! She had been transformed . . . totally . . . beautifully . . . and utterly changed. What once she had been . . . she was now no longer. What she had never been . . . she had now miraculously become. Those wondrous waters saturated with life! Waters so totally pure which had transformed her whole being both within and without.
Sleep was impossible that night for the amazed and bewildered pariah. "Oh, the incomprehensible wonder of it all!" she cried. "What strange and exhilarating power fills the waters of that beautiful courtyard fountain? What glorious energy and life have flowed through my veins! How unusual that I feel so vibrantly young. How gloriously unique to feel so pure and clean inside and outside!"
With delightful anticipation the pariah -- now transformed into a beautiful princess -- contemplated the morning's trial, her journey into the wilderness. "Oh, this will be the final step to the fulfillment of my life's most ardent desires. . . ." Before she realized it, morning had dawned. The hour for her to confirm and demonstrate her love now lay before her.
THE WILDERNESS
The glorious dawn of the rising sun found the transformed
princess anxiously awaiting the prince at the palace gates.
Looking upon his princely beauty with delight -- then looking at
herself now spotless, clean and young -- she felt a flame of love
spiral up in her enkindled heart which almost suffocated her. The
realization of her deep love for the beautiful prince quite took
her breath away.
After gazing upon her for a little while with deepest compassion and tender love, without a word the prince suddenly sprang upon his charger. Then he turned and beckoned her to follow him down the path which led out into the desert.
But, how strange . . . he offered her no mount. Did he expect her to follow him on foot? Thinking that perhaps a horse might await her further out in the desert, she obediently followed him through the city gates and eastward towards the rising sun. On and on she hastened after him. . . . On and on, she forged, ever deeper into the treeless wilderness. . . . On and on she ran without stopping, trying to keep the prince in sight. . . . On and on the prince pressed through sandy wastes and thorny thickets as the sun climbed higher and higher, mercilessly heating the desert sands. . . . On and on she forged, for the prince gave no sign of waiting or slackening his pace.
Slowly the heaviness of noonday descended upon her tired body. The dehydrating heat of the mounting sun siphoned away her ebbing strength. Her thirst called out to be quenched, but still the prince refused to lessen his pace. When overly-tired muscles demanded that she rest and breathing became difficult, she still had to force her weary feet to run. Without ever looking back, the prince sped on ever deeper into the wilderness beckoning her to follow.
Using every remaining bit of energy, the weary princess struggled on under the friendless sun, gulping in great draughts of blisteringly hot air. As thirst ravaged her being, her tongue began to swell rapidly. "Wait -- please wait!" she gasped. "Don't go so fast; I can't keep up with you."
Seeming not to hear, the beloved prince neither stopped nor turned to acknowledge her anguished call. Mile after mile he sped ever deeper into the wilderness. Hour after hour she falteringly followed until flesh and blood could tolerate no more. Finally slowing down and staggering, she desperately called once again for him to wait.
"What are these mystifying visions that play upon my mind?" the desperate princess thought. "Did my prince stop and look back -- only to turn again and spur his horse on? Is what I saw really true? Did I see him flee even faster and further into the wilderness?"
As the prince disappeared into the distant horizon, the solitude and vastness of the desert closed in upon her. He was gone; the princess remained all alone. No longer could she see him because he had passed beyond her sight. The beautiful young princess, who had been gloriously transformed from her once miserable state, had struggled courageously to prove herself worthy. Now, in spite of her most valiant efforts, her weary feet refused to obey her determined will. She had failed, miserably failed his test to prove her love. She could continue on no further.
Stumbling in exhaustion, the princess fell one last time, lacking the strength to rise again or even crawl, and now lay prostrate and powerless on the searing sands. Frustrated in her love . . . weary beyond restoration . . . feet torn and bleeding . . . body totally dehydrated and near death . . . heart broken in the agony of defeat and complete failure . . . she groaned in hopeless despair. Her life which had been transformed in that glorious Fountain of Life was swiftly ebbing away as she lay quietly on the blistering sands of the hot and lonely desert.
"Has my love mocked and destroyed me?" the dying princess mused. "Has all hope fled away? . . . Is there no one to help? . . . Is there no eye to pity? . . . Must I die alone in this dreary desert? . . . Was gaining the prince's love too high a goal for me? . . . Was my simple love but an insult to his Royal Highness? . . . Has he taken me into this vast unrelenting desert to destroy me and to mock my love? After all, I was only a miserable and unclean pariah. . . . Why didn't I realize I had no right to ask for the high privilege of marriage to him? . . . Wouldn't it have been more sensible to ask for earth's comforts like my pariah sisters did? . . .
"But NO, a thousand times no! I loved the prince, and I love him still. Although I do not understand why He left me, yet I unquestioningly believe he loves me still!" The only answer that the dying princess heard was the low sighing and sad moaning of the drying winds.
Surely, the helpless princess would NOW curse the day she believed this deceitful prince! Surely, her soul would NOW die in bitterness! The treasured love she believed she had found evaporated, disappearing as a mirage in the lonely and silent desert. Death drew near to claim his rightful prey.
As circles of tiny whirlwinds danced around the former pariah (now transformed into a beautiful princess), they listened intently to her final words. Even as the strangling fingers of death closed about her throat, her parched lips moved slowly to form the words of an old song:
"I've loved Thee in life; I'll love Thee in death. I'll
love Thee as long as Thou givest me breath.
And sing while the death dew lies cold on my brow,
If ever I've loved Thee, Prince Jesus, 'tis now."
The small whirlwinds continued to dance around the form of the dead princess. Then a faint sound broke the stillness as hoof beats of the approaching prince's galloping horse reverberated over the distant sands. Hastily Prince Jesus returned to the spot where the transformed princess lay motionless and silent in the rest of death.
As the roseate sun of the dying day kissed her face and bathed her now silent beauty, Prince Jesus looked tenderly down at the princess' lifeless form. He called to the whirlwinds and bade them faithfully repeat her last words. As He listened intently, a mysterious smile of infinite love spread over His glorious face. His garments began to shine with effulgent light until His form and face were transfigured by heavenly glory. A beautiful radiance surrounded Him as He began to speak to her:
"Dear Sister of Mine, my Dove, my Undefiled, my beloved Spouse, you thought you had failed. Not so! I find your love true and worthy. You have followed Me into this vast wilderness; you have followed even unto death -- not once turning back nor denying My love. Surely you knew My earthly name, sung throughout the land, but you did not know My other name. I am the Resurrection and the Life. Arise, My Love, My Fair One, and come away!"
And even as Prince Jesus spoke, a radiant glory light began to move out from within Him and enfold the form of the dead, motionless princess. The life-light that shone around her like a living flame kindled within her the same resurrection glory and transfiguring beauty that enfolded the Prince. Awakened into life -- by His light and life power -- the princess arose and beheld her Beloved. Her earthy beauty was now swallowed up in His heavenly light and radiant glory. Whereas before she had been made beautiful, now she was all glorious within and without. Speaking tenderly of His love to her, He placed the enraptured princess behind Him on His white horse. Then Prince Jesus victoriously returned with His princess to the palace.
"AND I HEARD AS IT WERE THE VOICE OF A GREAT MULTITUDE, AND AS THE VOICE OF MANY WATERS, AND AS THE VOICE OF MIGHTY THUNDERINGS, SAYING, ALLELUIA, FOR THE LORD GOD OMNIPOTENT REIGNETH. LET US BE GLAD AND REJOICE AND GIVE HONOR TO HIM, FOR THE MARRIAGE OF THE LAMB IS COME, AND HIS WIFE HATH MADE HERSELF READY. AND TO HER WAS GRANTED THAT SHE SHOULD BE ARRAYED IN FINE LINEN, CLEAN AND WHITE, FOR THE FINE LINEN IS THE RIGHTEOUSNESS OF SAINTS. AND HE SAITH UNTO ME, WRITE, BLESSED ARE THEY WHICH ARE CALLED UNTO THE MARRIAGE SUPPER OF THE LAMB." (Rev. 19:6-9)