WHEN I was a little girl, I believed in fairy tales. I believed in gallant knights on white horses rescuing hapless maidens. So it was that when I was growing up, I would look around the corner, waiting to see if my knight would come charging and whisk me off into the setting sun.
But it was not to be. I waited, and waited, and waited, but no knight came, only boys good at playing charades.
And yet, I could only helplessly answer “yes” to Richard Bach’s questions, “Do you ever feel as if you were not yet ready (emotionally and spiritually) to meet each other or we weren’t fated to be together in this lifetime. Or maybe there was really no special someone out there and I was pretending to be a princess in a city of concrete and steel. Maybe it was enough to be with someone who understood me a bit, could talk to me a bit and laugh with me a bit. Wishing for more was like wishing not only for the moon but also for the entire universe to be mine.
So I tried reaching only for the moon, although the stars were winking at me furiously, as if to say that if I was patient enough, the universe and all it had to offer were going to be mine. I didn’t heed, and instead, landed on the moon, sans the necessary equipment. Needless to say, I died a little death and learned the lessons of several lifetimes.
The stars were kind. They nursed me back to health, all the while murmuring that if I had listened to them, to the inner voice that I had ignored, I could blaze a trail through all the universe instead of hurting myself landing on the moon. And so I decided: It was the universe or nothing. If I could not have the universe, I would at least have the satisfaction of knowing I aimed for the best and would not settle for anything less. If I ended up alone, I would not be lonely. I would still have the stars and their wisdom. That would be better than ending up with someone who was a “bit of here and there” but who would always leave me wanting for more.
Then one very ordinary day, in the ordinary course of business, I met a very ordinary man (or so I thought to be then). The stars did not twinkle extra bright, there were no trumpets to herald his coming and he was certainly not on a snowy-white horse. Yet I knew, the way only one can when all is still and silent and the voice of the soul can be heard, that this was the man I wanted to live with for the rest of my life.
And yet I was cautious and wary. After all, my fairy tale spoke of white horses and being swept off one’s feet, and this was more of a slow (but delicious) ripening, of certainty building upon certainty that this person had the character and the strength, the values and beliefs, the intelligence, the drive and ambition, and the humor that I wanted to grow up and grow old with.
My fairy tale also said ”… and they lived happily ever after.” This has not been the case, but still I m happy – ecstatic, even – that I have met the man I have always dreamt of being with, perfect, yet fully human. We both have our faults, but in our desire to be faithful to our commitment, we have taken it upon ourselves to change, or at least to compromise and accept what the other is or is not. We know the road ahead is not easy, and it would be folly to wish it were so. For how could love grow in depth and intensity if the path is not strewn with thorns and vines that would bind us closer to one another?
Now, as we start planning our life together, we look beyond the walk on the aisle to the life we will have as a family. We are preparing for it, talking about it, dreaming about it.
Yes, my fairy tale did come true. Only, fairies did not tell it, and it was no mere tale. My prince really did come for me, and although he did not come on a white horse, the love I found is no less remarkable and perfect.
This story could be yours, too. I have no exclusive right to this happiness. Just believe and listen. And look at the stars from time to time. They may not tell you who it is or what’s being planned for you, but if you hold still for a moment or two, they may tell you the secret of owning the universe.
-- This inspiring story was given to me by a friend (a long time ago!). And like her, I want to share with you the joy in reading the story. I hope you’ll like it as much as I do. She definitely tells all. Admittedly, I’ve experienced the same in search for that someone. Long ago, I have been broken again. Yes, again. You could say I’ve landed on moon, actually, always. But I’ve learned how to BELIEVE ... and in due time – coupled with patience and prayers to God, my prince will come for me, someone who will love me with all his heart and all his soul. This time, I’m aiming for the universe. With that, may true love finds me.