The Princess With No Name

Once upon a time in a kingdom long forgotten, surrounded by ancient forest, lived a beautiful young princess who had no name. She was much loved in her land by all the people, wherever she went, seen mostly in the distance between the trees at sunrise then disappearing into its magical realm. No one knew where she went, except that she could also be seen leaving the forest returning home at sunset.

One morning at dawn, as she approached the forest, in a field of Lavender, a butterfly was drawn to her golden hair as it glimmered in early morning’s light. A beautiful gift of deep rich color, landing on her head, wings outstretched as if its existence was meant to adorn her as she disappeared into the forest once again.

Princess With No NameThe butterfly lay still on her head as she moved deeper. Many different kinds of trees and green fertile patches grew whichever path she took. All the animals came to her, as if called. None sought to harm her or each other. All were safe by her presence and greeted her as she passed, with her luminous smile. They all knew her name.

Deeper into the forest still, filled with life she moved as the butterfly knowing its life was short, comforted by her golden hair, sensing this was its place to be.

In a clearing, far from her home, grew a very old willow tree. She approached it and gently touched the bark, laying on the grass just below the arching branches, as if speaking to the great Tree. Then she fell asleep.

As sunset grew near, all the animals grew closer to protect her from the cold of the oncoming night. The next day at dawn, still, she did not awake. Three days went by sleeping, still. Why won’t she wake up, the animals sensed as tears began to appear on the bark of the willow. The tree knew, as it wept, that it was because no one could call her name.

Finally, the butterfly moved to her ear, covered by her golden hair and started to flap his wings. As they moved furiously, nearly spent, a sound could be heard by all living things, “Harmony be your name”, and she awoke as the willow continued to weep, for the butterfly had sacrificed the last of his life moving his wings to awaken her, by calling her name.