John-Paul's Kiwi Adventure Blog

The King’s Answer

Once upon a time, in a land not so especially far away, there lived a young prince named Peter. Unlike most princes who rode horses, sailed boats, learned to fight, had grand adventures and generally lived exciting and happy lives; Peter did none of these things. 

You see, only a few days after Prince Peter’s eighth birthday, a dangerous rebellion among people of the land forced his father the King to take refuge in a neighboring country. When his father left, Peter was sent away to live in a faraway city with his great aunt Isabella and her son Percival. 

All of the honest historians in the kingdom would tell you that among the rotten relatives in the history books, these two were undeniably the rottenest of rotten relatives known to man. They didn’t believe in roughhousing, or adventuring or getting dirty and they ate horrible foods (like canned spinach, Brussels sprouts, and lima beans)

If you were to ask Peter whether he was unhappy, I’m not sure that he would have an answer for you. In his heart of hearts, Peter was desperately lonely. He missed his father so much! The king sent letters to his son regularly, but great aunt Isabella never allowed Peter to read them for himself.

The oddest thing about the letters was whenever great aunt Isabella would read them, they certainly didn’t sound anything like the memories Peter had of his father. Stranger still, the things his father wrote sounded an awful lot like things great aunt Isabella was always saying, like “be sure to clean the toilets thoroughly, never ever get muddy, and don’t forget to wash behind you ears.”

The princely thing about Prince Peter was that he obeyed everything he heard in the letters, no matter how crazy or horrible they seemed. He loved his father dearly. Often at night he would lay in bed and try to remember wrestling with his dad, flying kites together, and he worked especially hard to recall the wonderful bear hugs his father gave.

Even when great aunt Isabella would read the letters saying he was to give his favorite toys to Percival or to take eight baths a day, Peter was faithful to obeying his father’s letters. Whenever he tried to talk about his father or question why the king would ask him to do such things, great aunt Isabella was always quick to shush him and insist that she knew the king best.

It was on Peter’s thirteenth birthday that things went from not-very-nice to especially-unfortunate. A few months before, Percival had his thirteenth birthday and he announced that he would be apprenticed to an accomplished banker - learning to manage money in the community and wearing sensible business clothes everyday. Great aunt Isabella was quite pleased with his career choice. So pleased in fact she bought week-old cupcakes from the bakery, an unheard of sugary treat in their household! 

Now you ask, what’s wrong with being a banker, or wearing sensible business clothes, or even enjoying stale, sugary baked goods? Well, of course nothing is wrong with these things in and of themselves. However, in her excitement, great aunt Isabella began to say that Peter ought to be apprenticed to become a banker as well, despite the fact that he never enjoyed maths, or banks, or sensible business clothes for that matter…

On the morning of Peter’s thirteenth birthday the whole household was awoken by a loud knock on the door. Peter heard great aunt Isabella harshly greet the unfortunate mail courier who meekly asked her to sign for a package and letter from “Hiiisss Maaajjjesty… the King.” The King?! Peter was beside himself with excitement. As soon as he heard the door close, he quickly threw on clothes and bounded down the stairs, bumping into Percival as he ran into the kitchen to find out about the delivery.

He made it to the kitchen just as great aunt Isabella was turning around holding an envelop in her hands, but no package. “It would appear that it’s your birthday again Peter.” she said dryly. “Is that a letter from my father?” Peter asked anxiously. A nervous smile passed over her face, but she quickly composed herself and said, “It is indeed, would you like me to read it to you?” 

“Yes please!” said Peter.

Peter,

Greetings on your birthday. How nice for you to be thirteen. I have been thinking that you should be a banker. As your father I know best, so I am commanding you to take up an apprenticeship in this field post haste. Your interest in adventures and the outdoors are rather pointless if you think about it from a king’s perspective, so it’s probably best if you just give those up now and start growing up.

Sincerely, Your Father the King

Peter’s smile faded instantly. His birthday was ruined! He forced a small, polite “Thank you auntie” before bolting up to his room, locking the door and throwing himself onto his bed crying. He was devastated! The last of his hope was all used up and he felt like curling up on his bed and sleeping forever.

When he woke up though, he felt a bit better, but his mood soured as his thoughts drifted back to the morning’s events. The more he considered what had happened, the more suspicious he became. A tiny voice inside of him said that the letter didn’t sound anything like his father. And who was his great aunt to say she knew his father better than he did? And why wasn’t he allowed to ask questions? So that night he decided to check the letters for himself. 

After he heard the awful snoring of great aunt Isabella begin, and the quiet breathing of a sleeping Percival, he snuck out of bed quietly, carefully tip-toed down the stairs, opened the writing desk slowly, and poked around until he found the stack of his father’s letters.

This was it. Any hope he had left, was hanging on what he found as he carefully opened the first letter from the bottom of the pile. Peter carefully took the letter out of its envelop and began to read…

My Dear Son,

You have no idea how difficult it is for me to be separated from you. I love you more than words can express. I have so many dreams for your future! As my son, the entire kingdom is your inheritance. Be true to yourself and your potential is enormous! I take great delight in you my son.

Until we are together again,

I am forever,

Your Loving Father

His heart leapt in his chest. This was the King, the Father that he remembered. The memories that he had been working so hard to hold onto now effortlessly flooded back to him in vivid color. He nearly began to cry as he opened a letter from deeper in the pile…

Dear Peter,

Today you turn ten. My heart aches to see you and spend even just one day with you! I wish I had a photo of you to see how much you’ve grown over the last two years. Your childhood is coming to an end soon. Enjoy it while it lasts! Get outside and continue to explore like I know you love to. Take chances, build friendships, and be courageous enough to be yourself. No matter what, I will always love you!

My love for you knows no bounds,

Father

This was nearly too good to be true! Peter caught himself almost wanting to pinch his arm to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. He could almost feel the words washing over him with warmth. Reading them was like being wrapped up in a big bear hug! The love and acceptance of his father’s words did wonders to ease the pain of the last five years of separation. 

Peter read letter after letter, savoring each word, feeling more and more like his father was right there in the room speaking to him. Some letters gave advice about how to do what’s right and be honorable, other letters shared about the King’s life and what life was like living away from the throne, and still others - the most precious of all - were the ones that his father simply shared the things he loved about Peter, what made him proud to be his dad, and how he saw Peter as his son. 

The letters occasionally shared dreams that the King had for his son, about him becoming a strong, courageous and honorable man, about him falling in love with a woman one day and winning her heart with his love, and even how the King hoped that he too would have sons and a family of his own one day. All of these dreams resonated in Peter’s heart and made him excited, but nothing thrilled him more than the last few letters he found. The first read like this:

My beloved son,

In only six short months you will begin the journey to becoming a man. Childhood is a season to enjoy, but it is a short season of life. It pains my heart to know that your childhood has not been as safe or as wonderful as I dreamt it would be. But that will soon be a thing of the past.

My next six letters will be filled with principles that I have learned about what it means to become a man who blesses the world by being brave enough to be himself. Treasure each of them, dwell on the truths I will share, and search your heart to find ways to begin applying these principles even now. 

I am with you as you read my letters. Even though I can’t be with you physically, my spirit is with you as you begin to make this transition into manhood.

With all of my love and affection,
and dreams for your future,

Your loving Father.

Peter was beside himself with excitement and even a little fear. It was getting late, and despite the happiness Peter felt, he was getting rather sleepy. He snuck the last six letters into his pocket and carefully wrapped up the others, put the writing desk back in order and quietly snuck back to bed.

The next morning, Peter was positively a new boy. The sun seemed warmer, the birds sung sweeter songs, the air smelled nicer, even the cold porridge he ate for breakfast tasted less horrible than normal. His late night discovery had restored his hope!

Over the next few days, Peter took advantage of every spare moment to sneak up to his room, lock the door, and grab one of the letters from under his mattress. He took his father’s words seriously and he was excited about the lessons he was learning. His father talked about things like living generously, loving people who hate you, being responsible but not worrying, treating people the way you would like to be treated, being fair and just, and many other things that make a man a good king. 

When Peter finished the last of the six letters, he was still hungry for more. He felt like he was really beginning to get to know his father through the letters. The king revealed things about himself that only a close son would know. Peter felt so included, so important and so loved that his father would trust him with this information. However something was missing. In the stack of letters he had poured through, he still couldn’t find the one that had come on his birthday last week. That night Peter determined that he absolutely would not go to sleep that night until he had found the letter and the package that had arrived with it. 

Once everyone was in bed that night, Peter made sure everyone was fast asleep before he carefully made his way downstairs. All day he had been thinking about where to begin his search. He decided that the kitchen would be the best place to start. That was the last place he had seen great aunt Isabella with the letter, so it seemed like the best place to look. (You must know about great aunt Isabella, she was rather forgetful, always leaving a trail of things behind her as she made her way around the house.)

In the kitchen, Peter began by searching all the cupboard, looking under plates and cups and glasses. He looked below the counters, behind the tins of spices, and he poured through each of the drawers, but to no avail. He was nearly about to give up when he remembered that he hadn’t checked the pantry yet.

Great aunt Isabella’s pantry was a marvel to say the least. She had row after row of neatly organized canning jars full of stewed cabbage, and boiled brussel sprouts and pickled beets. It was obvious that she took exceptional pride in her pantry. But his elderly caretaker’s organizational accomplishment was lost on Peter. He was bent on finding his birthday letter and package. It was amongst the jars of recently stewed cabbage that he found the misplaced mail. 

Without even leaving the pantry, Peter began opening his birthday letter, eager to hear from his father…

Peter, 

My son, of all the days I have wished to spend with you, today, your thirteenth birthday is the day that my heart aches the most to spend with you. To see my boy begin the journey to becoming the man I’ve always known you are. If you’ve taken my lessons to heart, I believe that you are ready to begin your journey. 

Enclosed are three gifts that have always been intended for you. You will find a ring of authority with our family’s royal insignia on it, an outfit befitting a young man of royal blood, and a small dagger that I carried as a boy. 

Now that you are thirteen, I have confidence that you are old enough to set out on your own and come visit me. In the package I have included a map to the village just beyond the northern the border where I am living. 

Travel quickly. Waste no time. Be the man that I know you are. Stick to the principles I’ve taught you and I trust that I will see you soon!

I look forward to being reunited with you my son. I love you more than words can express!

Your Loving Father.

Peter was taken back by the words he read. No wonder great aunt Isabella had lied to him. His father wanted him to embark on his own to go and visit him. Before he reflected any longer, he tore into the package. Inside he found things just as his father had described. 

The ring was a simple gold band of medium thickness that fit his finger perfectly. The emblem on the band carried his family emblem. As Peter slipped it onto his finger, he already felt more powerful. The clothes were fashioned out of a fine blue cloth, with light blue accents. They fit him to a tee! It was as though they had been tailored for him exactly. As he opened the last compartment of the package with the dagger, a note fell out…

Peter,

I’m sending you the ring to remind you of your authority as my son, and to prove your inheritance to anyone who doubts your sonship. The clothes are to show the world that you are royalty and to remind you to hold yourself to a standard of treating others befitting one of royal blood. The dagger is for your protection. The world is dangerous and the way is not safe. Be wise as you travel and do not delay.

Best wishes, Father

After examining the dagger, the reality of the night’s discoveries was beginning to dawn on Peter. He realized that he had a choice, would he leave the safety of his home for the last five years and set out to see his father, or would he allow the fear already forming in his heart to paralyze him. He knew in his heart that part of him was suffocating here, and that setting out on an adventure was just what he needed to come back to life.

The following day was rainy. The perfect excuse to stay in his room and re-read his father’s letters. After each letter he read, the more certain Peter was becoming of his decision. He began smuggling small bits of food up to his room as he prepared a small travel bag. That night after everyone had gone to bed, Peter slipped out of bed, shed his old clothes and put on his princely clothes. He beamed with pride as he silently slipped the ring onto his finger and sheathed the dagger at his side.

And into the chilly night air he confidently stepped, intent on following his fathers directions and making his way to the northern village where his father lived. Only a week ago he had been a hopeless young boy, but now with each step he was growing more and more confident in his place as a son.

The End