Mirror with Reflections

Born into a dark and war-torn land, she was the youngest child and only daughter of the king and queen. Because of the battles, her father and older brothers spent little time in the castle.

At the outset of the wars, they thought themselves sure to defeat the sorcerer and his army. But, one by one, over the years, allies in neighboring kingdoms fell until this one land was left standing alone, a small and withering enclave in the midst of the sorcerer’s conquered domains.

One last hope remained. There were rumors of a Great King far to the north with might far greater than the sorcerer’s. When the princess was nearly fifteen, envoys were sent to plead for help. The besieged kingdom waited with heavy hearts.

Would the disguised envoys find safe passage through enemy occupied lands? Why should this Great King release knights to their aid when they had no alliance? For that matter, did the Great King really exist or was he the fabricated hope of all those suffering under the conqueror’s oppression?

The sorcerer’s dark power kept the sky continually overcast, shrouding all in chill and dread. No radiant sunlight warmed the land for years. The nights were black because the thick clouds smothered any moonlight.

Under the cover of this darkness one night, a band of misshapen gnomes climbed silently from the depths beneath the castle cisterns and crept unseen into the chambers of the sleeping princess. She awoke with a start to find small bodies like rats clamoring onto her bed. Though she opened her mouth to scream, only the whisper of a cry escaped and her body froze in terror.

“Gnome got your tongue?” teased one of the intruders, and the rest cackled and wriggled gleefully around her. “You can’t betray us, because you’re one of us, a changeling we switched with the real princess in infancy. So, bethankful to us for your lofty state and remember whence you came!”

“Look how big my little girl has grown,” wheezed one leering hag. “We boiled the real baby princess and gave you the broth to make you human sized, but you’re still one of us.”

Finding her voice and  strength at last, the princess screamed aloud and leaped from bed to run for her mother’s room. Guards surged into the princess’ chambers, but they found no trace of any intruders.

“You’ve had a nightmare, that is all,” the queen reassured her daughter and held her close.

The next morning, the princess went to her mirror as usual to brush her hair and noticed for the first time how bulbous her nose was. Indeed, the longer she looked the more she realized that it was quite unsightly, large and  pug, like a pig. And her eyes! How beady they were, set deep above her wide cheek bones. She fell to the floor crying in anguish, sure now that her midnight visitors were no dream and their words were true. All that day she stayed in her room weeping and would see no one. At eventide she fell asleep, heartsick and exhausted, only to be awakened once more by the grotesque band of wriggling gnomes.

“You’re one of us!” they sang hoarsely, lighting the wall sconces and dancing about her chambers wildly. “Call the guards on us once more, and we’ll tell your heritage to all the castle!” Pilfering through her belongings, they wreaked havoc in the room until dawn, when they crept back to their underground abode, taking whatever they fancied. The smell of their putrid little bodies lingered in the room long after their departure. Each night the princess suffered their harassment, and during the days she kept to herself, eating little of the food concerned servants brought. The leftovers were bandied about by the raucous gnomes during their nightly visits. Tossing the food among themselves as they belched and ate, the gnomes had a great feast.

They regularly brought out the mirror which the princess had hidden because she could not bear to look at herself. Pulling the reluctant princess to stand before it, they reveled in pointing out every gnome-like aspect of her features.

“Stop, stop!” she cried, covering her face with her hands. “Stop, stop,” they mimicked her plea with relish, for they knew what the princess did not: the image she saw was untrue. On their first visit, before awakening the princess, the gnomes had enchanted her mirror to reflect a horrible visage so that she would believe their terrible lies.

On her fifteenth birthday there was to be a banquet and celebration held in her honor. Although the princess begged her mother to cancel the festivities, the queen would not hear of it.

“You’ve been ill in your room too long, my child,” said the queen.” A celebration in these bleak times will do us all good.”

“How can you be so cruel to me?” the princess protested angrily. “What are you talking about?” the queen asked in disbelief.

“It is unbearable to move among people and know that they secretly pity and mock me.”

“Why would anyone pity or mock you?” The queen’s eyebrows raised.

“Because I am ugly!”

“Nonsense,” said the queen, cupping the princess’ face in her hands. “You are beautiful.”

In her heart, but not aloud the princess thought, “She would not look on me so graciously if she knew the truth of my parentage.”

At the birthday celebration, the princess wore her hair long and hanging down on either side to cover her face as much as possible. Keeping her chin tucked, she peered out from under her locks only when necessary and avoided the humiliation of meeting anyone’s eyes. She had no desire to see the false kindness there, the manufactured pleasantness extended only because of her royal station.

While her father could not leave the battle lines, two of her brothers came home for a rest along with a handful of other weary knights. A strained mirth filled the banquet hall, as if all attending wondered whether it would be their last gathering. But the playing of lutes and horns encouraged the guests to dance in a circle with hands linked in the air.

“Lovely lady?” a friend of her brother inquired, inviting her to dance with him. She had long thought him the kindest and most handsome knight ever, but now was cut to the quick by his callous treatment. How dare he mock her calling her a lovely lady in front of the people! She felt her face redden with shame at the imagined snickers that his charity would elicit from the guests.

“No,” she mumbled and drew back, staring at the floor until she saw his feet leave. Another pair of boots approached.

“Dance with me, Princess,” the man bellowed gregariously. She recognized his voice at once. It was the belligerent son of one of her father’s dukes. She had always avoided his uncomely advances.

“No,” she mumbled once again, but he grabbed her hand and dragged her into the circle. When that song ended he stayed by her side and, for once, she was thankful for his incessant boasting, mostly about his supposed feats in battle. For when anyone joined them she was protected from conversation.

After some time, her brother pulled her aside. “Why are you encouraging him, little sister?”

“And why shouldn’t I?” she replied testily.

“Because he is a dolt.”

”I’m fifteen now. I will choose my own suitors, thank you.” With that she returned to the loud knight and placed her hand in the crook of his arm.

Suddenly a herald from the front lines burst into the room, his clothes spattered with mud from his hasty journey. Worry lining her face, the queen rose slowly from the royal dais overlooking the hall.

“My Queen, Lords and Ladies.” The messenger bowed low before the dais. “We have reports the Great King’s army is moving in the north against the sorcerer! He is routing the sorcerer’s troops from the conquered lands and might reach our city before the year’s end.”

In the crowd, a murmur of shocked disbelief became a joyful cheer.

Over the next months the Great King’s army did indeed advance and joined with her father’s knights in pushing the sorcerer’s  battle line toward  the sea. Weakened by the onslaught the dark magic no longer blanketed the land under thick clouds. Here and there, for the first time in years, the sun broke through clouds in glorious shafts of light. Alone in her chambers, the princess looked out at the sky in awe. Before her eyes, a sunbeam streamed through her window and struck the cast-aside mirror. Dust floating in the beam sparkled gold and silver as the princess reached out to pass her hand through the gossamer light. As she moved, the princess caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and gasped. The face was no longer that of a gnome, but the contours of her own true appearance, both familiar and new at the same time. Happy tears and laughter broke forth from the face she watched in the mirror. Unable to contain herself, she danced joyfully in the light of the sunbeam.

“It was enchanted!” she shouted. “The gnomes must have bewitched my mirror, but now I know the truth! Everything they said was a lie!” She swept her hair upward and secured the tresses with ivory combs.

That night she intentionally suffered the grotesque visitation of the gnomes without a word about her discovery. Then as dawn and their departure neared, she begged them to leave, knowing full well by now that, just to vex her, they always did the opposite of any request. Tonight she wanted them to stay a little longer.

“Leave? Leave? You want us to leave!” badgered one disheveled gnome and fanned the others into frenzied rollicking.

“Stay away from me,” the princess pled purposefully and backed toward the shuttered windows which had closed out  the night air. The gnomes rudely crowded around her, hissing and sneering. Turning as if to hide her face against the shutters, she waited until she saw the rising sun through a crack in the wood. Her quick hands threw open the shutters, and she stood back to let the sunlight flood her motley guests.

With unholy shrieks, they fell to the stone floor withering in convulsions.

She put her hands to her ears to shut out the tormented  cries, for, despite all their wickedness, she regretted their pain. The shrunken bodies, reduced to dry papery wisps, wafted up in a gust of wind like autumn leaves. They whirled into the air and then sparkled strangely in the sunlight. To the amazement of the princess, they suddenly blossomed into delicate fairies with translucent wings. Laughing and crying with joy, the sound from them was like the chiming of tiny crystal bells.

“Thank you! Thank you!” one cried out, floating on the morning breeze. “You’ve freed us from the sorcerer’s spell. Forgive us, Princess. In our accursed state, we spread our misery to all we found. We were, to you, most unkind of all. Forgive us, for we, too, had forgotten our true nature.”

They flitted through the open window and with happy wonderment the princess watched the fairies fly away.

Personal Reflection

Parts of the parable that touched me are…

When I read these parts I felt…

Similar situations in my life are…

How do I see myself? In the two mirrors below jot down quickly words or short phrases that others would use to describe your qualities (examples: sense of humor, smart, pretty…)

Which mirror is closer to how I see myself?

What negatives have I been told that are not true? Draw a line through them.

What qualities are true areas for self-improvement?

What positives do I have difficulty believing about myself? Circle them.

As you circle the positives, say each one out loud completing the sentence,

“I’m so glad I’m …” When you do this, some gnome from your past may accuse you of being conceited. Shine a sunbeam on the gnome and let the accusation wither away.