Once upon a time, there were a hundred princesses all gathered in one room. They ate and drank, chatted and prayed. They enjoyed their times together away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. But they had no idea of their royal heritage because of a spell put upon all daughters of the earth by a wicked witch. It was during a time of innocence before scribes recorded such things as dates. The King and his daughter were enjoying a quiet time together in the palace. Unbeknownst to them a wicked witch watched their laughter and joy as they shared the events of their day. Alone in the dark corner, the witch was filled with jealousy at their easy smiles and companionship. Why should the princess enjoy such luxurious settings or restful fellowship? Unable to continue watching, the witch slithered away, keeping to the shadows to avoid notice. Once back in her den under the earth, away from the shining moon and twinkling stars, the witch brooded over what she had seen and heard. Hatred, pride and jealousy burned within her heart until only one thought consumed her. Why should she live in a den under the earth and the princess in the courts of the King? The thought soon twisted and changed shape into another. What could she do about it?

The witch neither slept nor ate while she contemplated the problem and its solution. After days and nights without sleep her twisted mind devised a plan. It was simple but cunning. It could work. She took an apple and poisoned it with a spell. The spell was clever for it would affect not only this princess, but all who would follow…

“May the daughters of the earth
Work hard to take care of their hearth
Leave them little time to relax, play or sing
hide from them the fact that they are daughters of the king”

The spell would work; the only thing needed was for the princess to take a bite of the spellbound apple. If she did, she would be thrown into such a frenzy of activity she would forget her royal heritage. The princess would be blinded to who she was. She would be bound and weighed down by daily cares. Her royal robes would be exchanged for rags of works, her tiara misplaced; her joy stolen. And so would it be for all of the daughters of the King that came after.

One day soon after, the princess left the safety of the palace and the watchful eye of her father, the King, to go into the village and visit a fair. Her father had warned her that it wasn’t safe for her to go into a village alone, for the King had enemies who would try to hurt him through her. But she had watched the fun from her tower room window and wanted so much to be a part.

“I love my father. He has provided me with everything a princess could want…except fun. I just want to have some fun.” The princess explained to a dust mote drifting through the window. She continued to confide in the speck of dust. “Look at them singing and dancing. What harm would befall me if I just visited the fair just for a little while, maybe play one of their games, or taste some of their treats? It is broad daylight. Nothing bad would happen to me, would it?” When the mote answered not a word, the princess considered it approval of her plan. “Well, that’s it then. I’ll go and just see if it is as much fun as it looks.”

Little did she know that a crow, one of the witch’s spies, was listening to her monolog from the tiles of the castle roof. Before she had even turned from the window, the crow had flown away to inform the witch of the princess’ plan. By the time the princess, in disguise as a peasant girl, arrived at the village fair, the witch had set up a sweets booth with the spellbound apple on display.

The princess roamed the cobbled streets of the village taking in all the sights and sounds. In her haste to get to the village, she had chosen to forgo her noon repast, and realized she was more than a mite hungry now. She caught a whiff of something truly delicious from the food booth at the corner. She noticed a little old lady, kind in her appearance, beckoning her to come and try her wares. Almost as if her feet had no will of their own, they walked straight to the booth. The princess was warmly greeted by the kindly old woman. “Oh, such a pretty young lady…but a hungry one if I take my guess. You look as if you could use a tasty treat.”

The princess admitted, “I missed my noon meal and now I am excessively hungry. Your scones look and smell delicious…how many pence for two?”

“Oh, deary…look and smell delicious they do. But they were baked this morning and are a bit on the stale side. This apple, however, is a tasty treat indeed.” At the princess’ speculative look, the witch quickly continued. “Not an ordinary apple, you see. It has been sprinkled with a secret ingredient that makes it the most delicious treat in this booth. Aye, it is. Try it Deary, and see for yourself.”

Briefly, the princess remembered her father’s warning about enemies but the memory was overshadowed by the aroma of the tasty treat begging her to take a bite. And bite she did and immediately, forgot who she was. She looked down at her peasant clothes, and in confusion into the satisfied eyes of the old witch.

“What are you doing girl? Slacking off? Do you see this mess on the street? I told you to clean this up at least a dozen times this morning. Do you want another good beating with the switch? Get busy, now.”

With no memory of who she was, she took the old woman’s words as truth and began to clean the street. She cleaned and cleaned through the day and into the night, barely resting as the words of the witch resounded in her mind. “Get busy now…do you want a good beating with the switch?” She cleaned all of the streets of the village and traveled through the woods to the next village to continue her charge.

The King grieved for his lost princess, stricken with the knowledge she worked like a servant girl from sun up to sun down, when she should be sitting quietly in the palace chatting about her day with him. Occasionally, he would receive word she was in this village or that, but by the time he sent a messenger to bring her home, she was off to yet another place to clean. Centuries passed, and all daughters of the King were trapped in the same spell. Though it was whispered about in the smoky rooms of taverns and village inns, it became just another sad tale to share on a cold winter’s night.

Centuries passed until one day, a prince of royal heritage sought out the daughter of the King. He knew something the wicked witch did not know. The spell was good and strong, but there was a way to break it. There was ONE way to break it. The blood of royalty could render the spell void.

He caught up with the princess turned slave, in the village of To-do. “Princess!” the prince called out. But not knowing he referred to her, the young woman kept right on working. So he took her by the elbow and turned her around to face him. He looked her in the eyes and called her princess once again. Seeing the confusion and doubt, he knew that there was only one thing he could do to save her from her dreary life. He knelt down and picked up a limb from a prickly thorn bush. Looking into her eyes once again, he said, “Princess, this blood is for you.” Then he pricked his thumb and drew her hand into his. When his blood was applied to her hand, the confusion and doubt lifted from her eyes and she whispered back to him, “princess.”

Now it must be known, that each princess must apply the blood of the prince to her own hand before the spell is broken. “Princess, will you apply it to your own?” 100 princesses in this room, will you apply the blood of the prince to your life?

Posted under Heart to Heart