Once upon a time someone spoke the first fairy tale. No one can know for sure how long ago that was. Perhaps it was Lucy, in Ethiopia, grunting to her daughter of the rich and beautiful hominid in the next river valley, ready to come and sweep her away to a better life. Or maybe it was Java Man gesturing and murmuring to his son about the great hunts that took place way back in the day, in olden times before gesturing, and proper hygiene, as it were.
Eventually someone thought to write some of these stories down, and along with the oral tradition, the written story evolved. Today we know fairy tales as Jack and the Beanstalk, Rapunzel and Rumpelstilskin. But there is another kind of fairy tale as well; One for true believers.
This morning, as sunlight first swam over the sill of my window, I had already been awake for an hour and a half. Yes, I watched the entire royal wedding of William and Catherine. The sun’s rays flowed in time with the processional, Jerusalem, and William Blake’s words, indicating that even briefly, heaven can be found in England, reverberated around Westminster Abbey like stardust in a child’s hands.
As William, enlightened in his hygiene, looked toward his bride and told her she looked beautiful, I swear I could hear Lucy from another epoch, grunting, “You go girl!”
Once upon a time…