I was perusing Etsy wares the other day when I happened upon this…
Isn’t it magical? There’s nothing better than a ring that hints of hidden forests and fairy dust; that’s precisely what I thought when I received one similar…
Eleven at the time, I knew pretty much all there was to know. To humor the adults, however, each week, Monday through Friday, I hopped aboard a school bus, violin case in hand, and made my way to a stuffy schoolroom that smelled of chalk and moth balls, to “learn” amongst my fellow fifth graders. Other than the occasional fight with Mr. Jensen–who knew nary a thing–life carried on at a fairly even keel. Nothing unusual, nothing out of the ordinary.
Then he walked into our classroom.
He was a transfer student, with a strange first name and a funny accent. He had smooth, caramel colored skin, onyx eyes and raven colored hair that danced in the sunlight. Those things alone made him stand apart. But what struck me most about the wee fellow, was his presence. At least a head shorter than any of the other children–girls included–he seemed to fill the room the moment he stepped past the threshold. There was just something about him.
Of course, I had no way of knowing what it was until the afternoon he pulled me aside during recess and let me in on a little secret. He was a prince–the crown prince, to be precise, of an obscure little kingdom filled with wonder and delight. His family had been forced to leave under nefarious conditions; they had been traveling about, in hiding, for some time. But the evildoers had been overthrown; all was well in the land. They were going home.
“But I want you to know I will never forget you, ” he said. “To remind you of this, I want you to have this … ” Then he took my hand, and placed in it a ring. But this was no ordinary ring–it was a royal insignia, tangible proof that he was, indeed, a prince.
Strangely enough, we found a ring that looked eerily similar in the Avon catalogue a few weeks later. I, of course, paid no never mind. After all, mine was something special; mine had been sprinkled with fantasy.
I’ve no idea what became of that ring, let alone that little prince. Perhaps he became a novelist … a scam artist … another Don Juan. Perhaps he became a little of each; heaven knows he had a strong enough start. But I do know he could teach us a thing or two. We can’t live in a fantasy world–I’m certain I wouldn’t want to. But a little magic now and again? Well that’s one of the greatest gifts of all.