by Vita Murrow
“Hmmm,” Otso pondered.
“I know it’s not what the dog has in mind for me but…”
“But you’re drawn to the Snow Man.” Otso finished the Snow Man’s thought knowingly.
The two sat silently.
“Well, perhaps the first thing would be to see how the Snow Man feels about you,” Otso suggested.
“But what if he rejects me?”
“Well there’s only one way to find out,” offered the dog, nudging some craft paper and ink toward the Snow Man.
With encouragement, the Snow Man drafted a sweet valentine. It was a big red heart with a simple note: I’ve admired you from over the fence, and now I wish to come near. Would you like to be my valentine? And get to know my cheer?
The dog delivered the valentine to the Snow Man next door. The neighbor Snow Man read the card and beamed. He looked across the fence for his admirer, then drew a coal from his buttoned belly and scrawled a response. The dog ran out with the card once again.
The two made an excellent pair indeed.
The Snow Man read the card with a tremble. “It says: I welcome a romantic pact but know it may be our final act. For snow folk who do fall in love, must also face the sun above.” Melted tears dripped from his acorn eyes, his carrot nose drooped, and his tile tie slid down.
Otso and the dog tried to comfort him.
“Are you prepared to join your valentine, knowing you might melt away from each other someday?” Otso asked tenderly.
The Snow Man found his smile.
And so it was, the Snow Man slid to meet his neighbor. He soon learned the chap was called Lumi. The two made an excellent pair indeed. They had so much in common: like-minded families who built them and a shared interest in the night sky. They made the most of the quiet evenings and shared their wish to be together long after winter passed them by.
The days grew longer and warmer, and the Snow Man and his valentine began to melt. As the Snow Man’s waist and face shrunk, his core was laid bare and something was revealed! At first, all that could be seen was an acorn. But as more snow melted, more of the Snow Man’s center was discovered. Until finally, on a warm spring day, in the place where the Snow Man had stood, gleamed an oak sapling. And where his valentine Lumi once stood, there was a sturdy shoot of a catalpa tree.
As the families returned to the yard for spring planting, they couldn’t help but notice the stunning new additions.
“Why look at this … have you ever seen something so lovely?” exclaimed the father.
“It must have been wrapped up in all that deep snow. In our Snow Man I suppose,” the mother replied.
“Look, another new tree beside it. What are the chances?” wondered the eldest child.
During the days and years that followed, the two trees grew steadily. One shaded the other, they passed nutrients in the soil below between them, and they offered homes to animals like birds and squirrels. The family too grew around them. And the ageing dog often curled up in their shade. On lovely summer days, the light from the sun hugged the heart-shaped leaves of the catalpa tree, and showered the yard below in their silhouettes, bringing a hint of Valentine’s Day to the longest days of the year.
Prince Charming
In a familiar land, many spins of the sun ago, lived Prince Charming. His father the king raised him to be a model citizen and an ambassador of the throne. He was expected to act with grace, as he represented the monarchy. This meant no eccentricities, no hobbies, and certainly no going “off script.”
From an early age Charming was in the spotlight. He posed for portraits, featured in parades, was sketched onto greeting cards … His face even embossed coins and candy wrappers. Every appearance was carefully curated by his father, the king.
“Move the playing cards from view,” the king requested at a portrait sitting.
“But that’s my Knight of the Golden Shield game, I just got good at it,” Charming lamented.
“Tidy up the boy’s hair, and is that nail paint? Take it off,” the king instructed the royal barber prior to a parade.
“But all the kids are wearing it!” Charming pleaded. But his voice went unheard.
One day, while riding his pegasus Laser, Charming noticed a stranger pushing a cart laden with masks and costumes: a donkey suit, a chicken mask, and a metallic dress. It piqued his curiosity and he called out, “Hi there, what’s in the cart?”
“I am a player in the theater. These are props for the picture show,” the player replied.
“The picture show?” Charming inquired.
“It’s a performance of players on a stage,” the player explained. “While they do their thing, a panoramic picture scrolls behind them. It’s exquisite! You should come tonight.”
“With pleasure!” Charming cheered, and raced home to tell his family.
“I’m going to a picture show! Who wants to come with me?” he announced back in the throne room.
“I don’t think so. Those can get wild,” the king said.
“But—”
“I’ll not have you risk our reputation.” The king shut Charming down before he could even begin. “One day, you’ll be the face of this great nation. We can’t risk a blemish.”
Charming huffed off.
“How would he know, he’s such a bore,” he pouted to himself. “He never plays games or takes risks, I doubt he has any quirks…” And in a moment of rebellion, Charming whistled for Laser and flew secretly to the picture show.
Charming found the theater and the show electrifying. The audience dressed with flair, and the performers with even more zest. The show included a peacock, a swan that rose into the air on a rigging, and a sword fight! Charming was thrilled.
After the curtain call, the player who’d invited him motioned for Charming to join the actors backstage. There he found frenzied performers. They were in various states of dress, had comical makeup on, and were eating ravenously. It was nothing like the portrait sitting, waving in a parade, or modeling for the coin.
“I recognize you from the sweets campaign,” noted the player who had been the peacock.
“Is it you on this coin?” a player dressed in a suit of armor asked as they tossed a gold piece.
“With all that modeling experience, you ever thought about trying your hand on the stage?” asked the player dressed as a swan.
Charming shook his head.
“I know a theater representative who’d love to meet you,” the first player said. “Swing by tomorrow, I’ll be waiting!”
So Charming made sure to appear.
“Allow me to introduce Buskin,” the player announced upon Charming’s arrival the next day. “You’ll be in good hands with him.”
“I run a professional stage company. With your life experience, I’ve a host of roles you’d be right for,” Buskin explained.
“I’m game!” Charming exclaimed and with that, he jumped in with both feet. He practised sashaying across the floor, and he sang his heart out with his best rendition of “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.” Each day, he and Laser snuck away to attend auditions.
Charming auditioned to be a baker, a butcher, a candlestick maker, and a prince. He got the call back for the prince and won the role. Buskin was thrilled.
“I knew you had it in ya!” he proclaimed. “You’ll be a star in no time!”
For the performance Charming only had one line. All he got to do was ride in on a white horse and slay a pathetic-looking papier-mache dragon. It wasn’t what Charming had expected.
Charming then tried for roles as Little Pigs 1, 2, and 3 and a prince. He again got the role of the prince. Buskin again was tickled. But Charming was lukewarm. This role called for an old-fashioned costume. And one dull line: “I’m here to rescue you!” And he was supposed to lift up a bored princess in an impractical gown. None of which sat right with him. Anyways, at the audition the princess actress was better suited to lift him!
Charming was beginning to see a pattern. He tried o
ut to be a dish, a spoon, and he even entered Laser to be a cow that jumped over a moon. Of course, because Buskin insisted and because he always got called back, he also auditioned for yet another prince role. He was cast, you guessed it, as the prince.
This time it was a bigger production. The costumer attached fake hair to his head, and gave him an ostentatious crown and massive fur. He could barely walk straight. He once again had only one line; “Have no fear, your prince is here!”
“This isn’t acting,” he thought. “I’m offended, to be honest,” he complained to Buskin.
“I know you’d like to be considered for other roles,” Buskin said. “But I thought you’d be glad to get so much work!”
“Is there nothing out there for me except one silly singular idea about what a prince is?” Charming spat. “I don’t want to see one version of my life repeated back to me. There are many different kinds of princes who can be played by different people. Why can’t a prince play different people too?’ he persisted.
Buskin listened carefully and pondered quietly.
“Maybe we should figure out what is special about you,” he said. “What you bring to a role that no one else can. Do you have any hobbies?”
“Well, I used to, but my father asked that I spend less time on them. I used to be great at a fantasy card game. I was kind of an expert.”
“Hey, I think know that card game! Golden Sword or something like that?”
“Knights of the Golden Shield! I loved all the twists and turns, and you could be so many different kinds of characters: monsters, princesses, kings and queens…”
“Here’s a wild idea, what if we wrote an entirely new picture show, a live version of Knights of the Golden Shield?” Buskin thought aloud.
Charming perked up. “That sounds amazing!”
“I’ll need to talk to some people,” Buskin mused. “Let me see what I can do.”
In the days that followed, Buskin and Charming outlined the show. The prince worked in the royal library and added details from his knowledge of the game. Buskin worked nearby in the garden. He observed the people of the court and castle and sought inspiration to make sure each role suited to any actor. Charming included his strong perspective on the roles of the royals.
“The prince must be shown not as a perfectly styled savior, but as a person with genuine interests and depth. A prince with their own distinction, with joy and affection to share and creativity that’s celebrated!” Charming pronounced.
As the team worked, others looked on and soon the royal court was abuzz with murmurs of the project.
“I hear there is a new picture show in the works!” the lords and ladies nattered.
“I hear there will be loads of roles for all kinds of people,” busied the staff.
Soon the chatter reached the king’s ears. But he wasn’t excited, he was irritated.
“A new picture show? I won’t have it!” he complained. “Who’s responsible for this?”
He began to ask around. Soon, Buskin was summoned to the palace.
“Yes, your highness? Are you eager to produce the new show?” he asked.
“Produce, whatever are you thinking?” The king was alarmed.
“I’ve written it for your son, the prince. With him, really. He’s added so many details. Would you like to read the casting call?” Buskin said, proudly handing over a long scroll.
The king looked confused but accepted the scroll. He unrolled it and read aloud:
“Open auditions! Exciting original staging of your favorite game, Knights of the Golden Shield, written by Prince Charming himself.” The king raised his eyebrows. “Fancy taking the stage as Lord of the Manor in the comedic role of an era? Or stepping into the shoes of a queen who plays the drums, or making your own destiny as a princess who rescues a dragon in need?”
“Come as you are,” a voice from the gallery spoke forth. “All ages and experiences eligible to play all roles.”
The king and Buskin looked and saw that the voice belonged to Charming. He strode forth, his hair self-styled, a pen in his hand. “Dad, Buskin, I think I’ve found my new purpose as a leader. And it’s not parading in front of the public anymore.”
Both looked surprised.
“I’m not the one who needs to be seen,” Charming explained. “Everyone knows who I am. It’s time we started seeing all the people in our kingdom: in parades, on coins, in portraits, and in plays!”
“What brought all this on?” the king asked. “You have an amazing life as the face of the kingdom.”
“Well, not quite,” Charming said. “It’s our people who are the true face of our land. And I’ve had to hide parts of myself. It’s not right.”
The king hung his head. He finally understood. For he, too, had suffered the same. “I used to make beautiful embroidery, but in all the portraits and manuscripts it was omitted because it wasn’t seen as befitting a royal,” he confessed. “You’re right, we all need to be seen, fully with all our uniqueness. Now let’s get this show up and running!”
Buskin and the king worked together to produce the show and Charming oversaw casting. He relished meeting people from the kingdom and pairing their special skills and interests with exciting roles.
Knights of the Golden Shield was an immediate hit. The kingdom loved the range of performances and the players loved the creative challenge. At the curtain call, Charming took the stage not as a player playing a part, but as a writer penning the truth: that anyone can don the crown, and everyone can play more than one role.
Knights of the Golden Shield was an immediate hit.
King Midas
Once upon a time, in a kingdom by a bright blue sea, there ruled a royal family named Midas. The king and queen enjoyed a fortune that included a generous garden, farm, and stables, and the best of education, entertainment, and art. They were respected for the way in which they shared these gifts to enrich the lives of their people.
While the queen traveled extensively to trade the royal resources, the king stayed at the palace to support the local people. When citizens fell on hard times or needed help, they came to the king with their worries. King Midas took great pride in making sure everyone had everything they needed. He saw to it that his kingdom was an upbeat place, where never a tear was shed, and he buried any less cheerful thought or grievance that came his way. After working with his royal advisors, Halide and Safiye, the king would spend time relaxing, reading, and playing in the garden with his son, Altin, with whom he was especially close.
Although contentment reigned within the kingdom and health and happiness were its maxim, life was not without unpleasantness. As time passed, it became harder and harder for King Midas to fix everything. An illness befell the land and though Midas built a hospital, he found it difficult to see his people feeling poorly. When a great storm flooded the beach, the king sent the stable staff to help relocate the seaside dwellers. He couldn’t bear to see their pain first-hand. Unable to deal with the growing number of people who came to ask for his help, Midas shut his doors, telling his advisors to give out money on his behalf. But money couldn’t fix all of the problems. It couldn’t help people who had lost a loved one or who were simply feeling lonely and afraid. Midas sensed he was failing his people and he was rattled.
“How can I give so much, and yet people still feel sad or fall on hard times?” he wrote to his partner the queen one day.
After pacing around his quarters, he headed out to the garden to clear his head. Altin and some kids were on the green. At first it looked like they were playing, but upon closer inspection they were squabbling.
“Made ya look, made ya look, now you’re in the dirty soot!” The children teased Altin, who had slipped near the fire pit.
“Enough!” the king bellowed. The children scattered, leaving Altin in tears.
It was the last straw. Midas couldn’t bear to see Altin in pain.
“Everywhere I turn I find distress!” he lamented. “I wish my touch coul
d keep everything in my kingdom as good as gold.”
As soon as he had spoken, clouds crawled across the normally unblemished blue sky. Fearing a storm, Midas was about to duck inside when a blaze of lightning flashed. In it, something caught his eye. It was a face!
“I’m an Envoy of the Sky!” the grinning lightning bolt hailed.
“What?!” Midas shouted, alarmed.
“I heard your plea,” the face replied.
“Plea?” Midas was confused.
“You’d like a touch that yields only goodness for the people of your kingdom,” the Envoy said.
Midas nodded in awe.
“You long for a day when no one brings you their sadness,” the Envoy confirmed.
“Yes, I want everyone to feel golden. To never have a cause for tears!” Midas described.
“Your wish is my command, but careful what you wish for,” cautioned the Envoy.
With that, the Envoy vanished, and the sky cleared to reveal a hot midday sun. Bewildered, the king sought a place to sit. He reached out to a stone bench, and a peculiar thing happened. When Midas touched the stone, it turned instantly to gold, as if painted with a brush. Midas’s eyes grew wide.
“Could it be?” he thought. “Has my wish to brighten the kingdom like gold come true?”
King Midas paced the gardens, looking to test his theory. An irritable peacock strode by, squawking. The king reached out and brushed its tailfeathers. The bird’s tinny screech turned into a sweet song and the emerald and purple feathers transformed into gold.
Midas was speechless. He raced into the palace.
“OK,” he thought. “My touch turns the appearance of things, but what about feelings? That’s what I really want to change.”
The king sought his trusted advisors, Halide and Safiye. The two came at once, each with a long list of needs and concerns.
“King Midas, we are so glad you called,” Safiye said.
“There are many people that need your attention,” Halide followed up.
