The Knight And His Princess

It was spring. Beautiful yellow daffodils bloomed everywhere. The sweet giggles of a little girl echoed through the garden, as if even the flowers were laughing along and celebrating the joy of spring. “There you are, you little monster! Come here!” With open arms, he approached the little girl who had been playing hide-and-seek with her daddy. Giggling, she jumped into his embrace, and he spun her around in delight. From the moment she came into their lives, nothing else mattered more to him. He was willing to do anything to protect his wife and his little princess. Carrying her in his arms, he walked over to his six-months-pregnant wife, who was sitting on a nearby bench, reading a book. The love of his life. He couldn’t have asked God for anything more. She looked up and smiled at them. “Is my baby hungry?” she asked, setting her book aside. She served cupcakes to her beloved husband and daughter—ones she and her princess had made that morning. Watching them eat, she smiled and gently placed a hand on her swollen belly. Oh, how much she loved them. But the peace and happiness surrounding the garden didn’t last long. The sudden ringing of a phone echoed through the space. He answered it without checking the caller ID. “Hello?” The smile on his face faded instantly, replaced by fear. His wife noticed. Before she could ask what was wrong, he whispered urgently, “Get in the car. We need to leave. Now.” He opened the front passenger door and helped his pregnant wife in, gently placing their four-year-old daughter on her lap. Then, he shut the door and hurried to the driver’s seat. Oblivious to the tension in the air, the little girl cheerfully munched on her cupcake. But the car was speeding, as if someone was chasing them. Suddenly, her mama’s grip on her tightened. The little girl looked up and saw fear in her eyes. She turned her head toward the road and saw a truck coming straight at them at full speed. She buried her face in her mama’s chest. “No...” She heard her mother whisper. A loud crash shattered the air. Time seemed to slow. She saw her daddy’s head slam against the window, blood splattering everywhere. She looked up at her mama. “We love you, baby,” her mother whispered before closing her eyes. All the little girl could feel was pain—deep, searing pain—before darkness took over. --- Nothing is more heartbreaking than seeing a four-year-old lose both her parents before her very eyes. It had been almost a week since the accident. Her parents hadn’t survived, but she had. When she opened her eyes for the first time in the hospital, she found herself surrounded by masked strangers—doctors and nurses—speaking in a language she couldn’t understand. All she felt was fear. She cried, searching for her mama and daddy. No one could console her. What shocked the hospital staff most was that in all that time, no one came forward to claim the little girl. The identities of the two bodies remained unknown. Eventually, they called Sister Juya, a kind woman in her early fifties from a nearby orphanage, who took her in. At the orphanage, every night was filled with nightmares. She would wake up crying, calling out for her parents. Sister Juya began sleeping beside her, but the girl’s weeping never ceased. She grew thinner by the day. She spoke to no one. Made no friends. Years passed. The little girl, now eleven, had turned twelve just a month ago. Still the same. Quiet. Withdrawn. Only Sister Juya and a couple of other kind souls had managed to get close to her. --- One afternoon, she sat alone in the garden, sketching in her notebook when a voice startled her. “Hey, what are you drawing?” She looked up to find a boy—handsome and not much older than her—looking curiously at her sketch. She ignored him, as she usually did with strangers. “Hey cutie, I’m talking to you,” he said again. This time, when she looked up to give him her coldest glare—the one that usually scared even the bravest boys—she froze. His eyes. Beautiful grey eyes, just like her mama’s. Her eyes welled up. The boy panicked. He didn’t mean to make her cry—he never made anyone cry before! It was his first time at an orphanage, and he’d been so excited when his Gammy brought him along that morning. When he first saw her, something stirred in him. There was something special about her. He couldn’t look away. Now she was crying. His heart clenched. Without thinking, he rushed forward and hugged her tightly, whispering soft, soothing words and gently patting her head. He didn’t understand why—but he just wanted to make her smile. Eventually, her sobs subsided. When they pulled apart, he softly wiped away her tears with his thumb. “Hey cutie… you don’t look good when you cry.” He gently fixed a strand of her hair. Looking into her eyes, he saw a kind of brokenness far beyond her years. “Will you be my friend?” he asked. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to know what pain had shattered her so deeply. He had never felt this way before—not for anyone. “My Gammy says that a princess like you should have a handsome knight as her friend—to save her from evil monsters,” he said with a grin. She finally responded, her voice soft and angelic, “Who’s the handsome knight here?” He laughed, pretending to be offended. “Hey! I’m talking about myself. Am I not handsome enough?” And for the first time, a faint smile touched her lips. He was so mesmerized by it that he gently kissed her cheek. “You’re beautiful, Princess,” he whispered. She blushed. He silently thanked God—he had never seen anything more beautiful. --- Days turned into months. Their friendship blossomed. He visited her after school, and she would wait by the orphanage gate just to see him. Sometimes, she baked cupcakes for him—using the recipe her mother had taught her. He loved them. Her pale skin regained color. Her eyes sparkled when he was near. She laughed again. She lived again. Sister Juya noticed and offered silent prayers of gratitude. The nightmares stopped. She now dreamed of her knight. He called her Princess. She called him Knight. On her twelfth birthday, he gifted her a beautiful pendant engraved with the word Princess. She gave him a handmade card with a drawing of a princess and knight riding a unicorn on the clouds, and a poem she wrote for him. His heart swelled. --- One day, he invited her to his friend’s birthday party. He even took Sister Juya’s permission. She was nervous—she hadn’t been to such gatherings in years. But he promised he’d never leave her side. So she agreed. And he kept his word. He introduced her to his friends. Balloons, clowns, magicians, and laughter surrounded them. She felt overwhelmed at first, but with him beside her, she felt safe. But then, one of his friends pulled him away. He hesitated, but his friends insisted she’d be fine. She tried to stay calm. But as soon as he left, the kindness around her vanished. “Look at her clothes.” “She’s probably never even been to a party like this.” “Yeah. If it wasn’t for him, no one would’ve let her in.” Their mocking laughter stung. Then a girl walked up and poured orange juice on her dress. “You look dirty, little girl.” Tears streamed down her face. She searched for her knight, but he was gone. “Eww, go away.” She couldn’t take it. She ran—without looking back. Her heart broke. He promised. He left. She whispered to herself: Rich people are scary. --- A few days later, he came to the orphanage. She was gone. A couple had adopted her and moved to another city. His heart shattered. He knew what his friends had done. He wanted to apologize, to explain why he had left her alone that day. But it was too late. He had failed to protect his princess. Tears rolled down his cheeks. He wiped them away and looked up at the sky with determination. “Your knight will find you one day, Princess.” ‘Your Knight will find you one day Princess.’