But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvellous light. 1 Peter 2:9 (ESV)
Disclaimer: This video was not created to specifically target children as it’s sole intended audience, however, it is family-friendly.
Once upon a time, lived a beautiful princess, only she wouldn’t be. Now, you might ask, what wouldn’t she be? Well, she wouldn’t be a princess because she did not believe that she indeed was a princess.
Princess Mary had a beautiful suite of rooms with the finest of furnishings, the softest of beds, and the warmest of fires waiting for her in the royal chambers. Yet, every night she curled up on the hearth of the great kitchen fireplace with nothing but an old potato sack for a pillow.
The ladies-in-waiting of the castle spent hours upon hours using the finest of threads and cloth to make beautiful robes and gowns that would sit forlornly in the princess’s wardrobe. Princess Mary refused to wear anything except a faded old dress that she had found in the rubbish heap. That dress had been gladly cast off by the lowest kitchen maid upon the maid’s first day of work in exchange for the official uniform of a servant of the royal household.
Every evening a royal feast would be set out in the royal dining hall, full of tasty treats that would delight the heart of any child, princess or not. Every evening, Princess Mary stayed in the kitchen, refusing anything to eat but an onion and a piece of old bread crust. Instead of sampling the rarest of elixirs and the daintiest of juices, she would drink stale water.
The king, being a kindly father, with a heart of love, did everything he could to convince his daughter that she indeed was his daughter, and therefore, a princess. He sent his trusted servants to her in hopes that they could convince her of whom she really was. The royal mathematician, full of logic and clear sound deductive reasoning, tried to convince Mary of her status, by pointing out the facts. No amount of logic would budge Mary’s opinion that she needed to keep in “her place.” She firmly stated that she shouldn’t think about those things that she was not worthy to receive. Mary yawned, stretched her aching back and returned to scrubbing pots.
The royal historian, upon hearing of the failure of the mathematician, thought that he had a chance. With charts and family tree and coats of armour in tow, he made his way, cling clanging through the maze of corridors, down to the kitchen. After giving him his say, Mary argued, “That is fine and dandy for all those lords and ladies to be entitled to all that, but they are they, I am me, and that is that!” Mary wiped the sweat from her tired brow, then curtsied politely to the back of the defeated scholar as he climbed the stairs back to the royal chamber.
The king sent the Royal Jester, a good friend of the princess. But even he was met with an “Oh don’t be silly and please don’t tease me, sir. I know my place, and that place is here, scrubbing the fireplace.”
The Chief of the Guard reprimanded Mary, reminding her of her authority to command his troops at her very word. Mary sent him away with a cookie and a suggestion that he should consult with the royal doctor as he was clearly deceived.
The king decided to take matters in his own hands and sent for the royal crown, sceptre and robes. With his royal sash and medals displayed across his chest, and the royal ring gracing his right hand, the majestic and powerful king led the parade of defeated advisors to the kitchen. Startled, Mary looked up from her mending as the royal procession descended upon her.
The King, seeing the look on his daughter’s face, thought to himself, “Aha! At last! I have gotten through to my daughter!” With a voice full of kingly authority, and with a noble gesture, he pointed to his defeated advisors who were busy trying not to look defeated and asked his daughter, “Mary, you have not believed these men that I sent to you. But perhaps, now you will believe me! Do you not know who I am?” The King stood tall and proud in full assurance of his kingship.
Mary looked perplexed and thought for a moment, then replied, “Of course I know you, my dear papa! You are my father!” Then taking her father aside, she whispered in his ear, “But what are you doing wearing the King’s clothes? You can get into trouble doing that, you know!”
Mary turned back to her sewing, shivering a bit in the winter chill, and the King went back to his royal chamber, scratching his royal head.
Afterword: The Lord gave me this tale over twenty years ago as I was praying with a dear friend who had difficulty in first seeing her authority in Christ Jesus, no matter walking in that authority to do the work of the Kingdom. He has not yet allowed me to change the ending. Now, before you give me a hard time about the ending of this tale, remember this. Sometimes, it is up to us to step into our happily-ever-after by taking the responsibilities that come with the authority given to us as co-heirs with Christ.
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All Bible verses attributed to the ESV version unless otherwise indicated.
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Until Next Week,
©1994,©2019 Katherine Walden