The wedding of the century came and went. The bride and groom moved to their new home and got into the natural rhythm of all married couples:
Perfection and utter bliss.
The remaining sisters were left to occupy themselves until it was their turn. For what else were maidens to do, but wait to get married?
“I’m so bored!” Cydippe said, flopping down onto Psyche’s bed. “No offense, Psyche, but Aglaura, for all of her faults, was a bit more fun.”
Cydippe propped herself up on her elbow as she watched Psyche gathering up her robes to go out.
“Would you want to come out with me?” Psyche asked.
Cydippe tried to hide a look of disgust. She had meant to lure Psyche to do some shopping or to go for a dip in the mud bath.
The idea of going out among the villagers with Psyche was — unappealing.
Granted, she loved the people and she didn’t mind being out among them. They clearly adored her. It was just hard sometimes to feel any love at all with Psyche around.
“What are you planning to do, exactly?” Cydippe asked.
“I am going to the village school,” Psyche said. “Today they will be sharing some of their poems.”
Cydippe remembered her poem program. Such a brilliant idea.
It couldn’t hurt to join. The children would likely ask her to recite a poem or two and she would be obliged to entertain them.
Cydippe ran to grab her cloak.
The two princesses walked together out of the palace courtyard, making their way to the hill where the children usually gathered.
As they approached the school, the children brightened. They began whispering to each other and the rumble interrupted the teacher.
The teacher, a sweet and patient older man, rose and greeted his visitors.
“You are just in time,” the teacher said, addressing Psyche. “We are most humbly honored that you have come.”
“Princess Cydippe,” the teacher said, showing no sign of his inward surprise at her presence. “How fortunate that you are here. After the students recite their poems, they would be most honored to hear something from a true master.”
Cydippe smiled and nodded.
He gave a bow to the princesses, then turned and addressed the students.
“Children, we will pause here. Make ready to present your poems. Hopefully, you have prepared well so we can impress the princesses with your work,” he said.
The students fidgeted a bit at the idea of performing before such a distinguished audience. Psyche was easy, but they didn’t know Cydippe well.
The teacher motioned for the princesses to find a seat at an elevated spot at the parameter of the class. While Cydippe sat where the teacher had indicated, Psyche scooted into the crowd and brought a child onto her lap. She gave the young girl a gentle squeeze and smiled at the nearby children.
“Let’s hear from Cyril first,” the teacher said, trying to keep the group organized. “Cyril, I expect some level of seriousness here.”
Cyril, an older and handsome boy, got up and walked to the front.
Clearing his throat, he took a pose, raised one arm and said:
“Odd are the fruit which grow on the vine
Odd are the thoughts in this head of mine
Odd are the fellows who sit in this class
Odd are the goats which eat of the grass
Odd is the smell of moss and clover
Odd –”
Cyril raised his eyebrow and looked around for dramatic effect.
“I believe that this poem is over.”
The students laughed as Cyril gave a flourishing bow. Everyone clapped and cheered for Cyril.
The teacher sighed, but couldn’t help smiling slightly as Cryil sat down.
“That will do Cyril. Phoebe, you’re next.”
She walked to the front of the group, nervousness apparent as she grabbed handfuls of her dress. Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes and began,
“I may not be the prettiest maiden
Rosy cheeks and jewels laden
But in my heart I long to be
As beautiful as princess Psyche”
She took a little bow and looked at Psyche. Psyche smiled and held her hands out to Phoebe. Phoebe went to Psyche and hugged her over the head of the child in Psyche’s lap.
“You will be a thousand times lovelier,” Psyche whispered to Phoebe. “That was a beautiful poem.”
Phoebe beamed as she took her seat.
“Very nice Phoebe. Dion? Do you have something to share with the class?” the teacher said.
Dion rose and took a bow, then marched to the front. Without hesitation he began:
“Death may come at any time
It rips and pulls at our deepest fears
But I’m not afraid, I welcome its face
I’m strong and sure
Death come”
Dion marched back to his seat, ignoring the light clapping and murmurs of the children. Psyche looked at him as he tried to inconspicuously glance at her.
“Well done,” she mouthed.
Dion gave a small smile and looked down.
Several more children took turns stepping forward. Some were confident, others shy. One stood completely paralyzed, staring at everyone unable to speak until the teacher finally told her she could sit down.
“Alright,” the teacher said. “Let’s hear one more. Uh, Daphne, are you ready?”
Daphne awkwardly rose and carefully stepped around fellow students as she made her way to the front.
“I’m sorry for this poem, uhm, because it’s a bit personal. I wrote it when my grandmother died some years ago. I was struggling to know what to do for my poem, so my mother said I should use this one,” Daphne said.
She bent her head as if in silent prayer and then she began.
“The sun rises and sets
It’s hard to remember
That each moment matters
Each smile precious
Each touch, each embrace
Fade with time
The sun rises and sets
But with each sunrise
A brighter hope
A remembrance
That it’s not over
A little more time
The sun rises and sets
The sun is setting now
A last embrace
A final moment
I will remember
For all time.”
Daphne blushed as she finished the poem and made her way quickly back to her seat. The class clapped and the teacher stood to make the next transition.
“Thank you students. Well done. I am very proud of your efforts. And now, Princess Cydippe, would you kindly honor us?” the teacher asked, indicating a place for her at the front.
The children immediately cheered as Cydippe stood and stepped forward.
Cydippe was a true professional. She gestured and moved about as she recited her poem. The children were enthralled as they watched her.
Psyche felt happy that Cydippe had chosen to join her.
“Thank you so very much, Princess Cydippe,” the teacher said with true appreciation. He would be able to use her example later to help improve his students’ performance. “And now, Princess Psyche. Are there a few words you’d like to share with the children? Any praise for their efforts?”
Gently putting down the child from her lap, Psyche stood and approached the front. The teacher usually gave her a little time to wrap things up. She felt it was his way of respecting her station.
“You have all done so well,” Psyche began. “I have truly enjoyed the poems each of you shared with us. How different they all were. How perfect!
“You are all growing so fast. I learn so much from each of you when I come. Thank you for allowing us to join you today.”
Psyche stepped aside as the teacher stepped forward again and dismissed the class for the afternoon meal. There would be more learning later.
The children stood and crowded around Psyche. She laughed at the press as some of them tried to push closer towards her. She moved among them, giving each a hug or a reassuring touch.
Cydippe watched Psyche, frowning slightly, until some of the children turned towards her and began crowding around her too.
Cydippe couldn’t help matching their smiles.
“I’m going to walk some of the children home,” Psyche said. “They live near the cliffs, so I’m not sure whether you’d want to come with us.”
The wind whipped harshly near there and the smell of the ocean wasn’t always pleasant.
“I’ll meet you back at the palace,” Cydippe said. She was eager for the midday meal and imagined her feet would hurt with all of that walking.
Psyche nodded and turned to the children.
“Are you ready?” Psyche said to the group she’d be escorting home.
The children eagerly joined Psyche as she began walking the narrow, stony path.
“That really was a lovely poem, Daphne,” Psyche said, trying to help encourage the conversation.
Younger children ran ahead and took turns returning with objects for Psyche to look at.
“Thank you, Princess Psyche,” Daphne said, clearly delighted.
“I know how hard it was for you when your grandmother died. She meant a lot to you, didn’t she?” Psyche said.
“She was so wonderful,” Daphne said, looking down at her feet as she walked. “She had a way of making me feel special. It’s been harder for everyone since she’s been gone. It’s hard, especially for Mother, but I’ve been doing my best.”
“I’m sure you are a big help,” Psyche said.
One of the younger children approached them, proudly placing a rock in Psyche’s hand.
“Look at all of the colors!” he said.
“Princess Psyche?” Phoebe said.
“You’re different,” Phoebe said. “I can’t quite figure out how you’re different. You’re not like your sisters.”
“Not like my sisters?” Psyche said.
Phoebe looked at Daphne, searching for the words.
“You’re — nicer,” Daphne said, trying to help.
“My sisters are nice too,” Psyche said with a chuckle. “They are just more comfortable with the things they know. I think that’s the way it is with most people.”
Daphne and Phoebe looked at each other again.
“I guess,” Phoebe said, somehow more sullen.
“What is it?” Psyche said, sensing there was more.
“Well,” Phoebe said. “It’s some of the other girls. We were all talking and some of them were saying that — that — “
“That Phoebe wasn’t as pretty as the princesses,” Daphne said, rescuing her. “They said that she needed to go more often to Aphrodite’s temple and beg the Goddess for more beauty. They said it would take a miracle to make up the difference.”
Daphne scowled at the memory of how mean the girls had been to her friend.
“That’s when I decided I wanted to be more like you,” Phoebe said. “You’re beautiful, but you’re different. I just don’t know how you’re different.”
“We are all beautiful in our own way,” Psyche said. “You don’t need to be like me or anyone else. You are beautiful enough and as you grow, you’ll figure out what makes you shine.
“Those girls weren’t very nice, though, were they? I’m sorry. Sometimes we let our meanness come out.”
“What do you hope to be when you are older?” Psyche said.
“Oh, I want to be a teacher,” Phoebe said.
“You’ll make a wonderful teacher, Phoebe. And you, Daphne?” Psyche said.
“I’m not sure. I’d like to help people the way you do, but I haven’t figured out how,” Daphne said.
“I know you will,” Psyche said.
Psyche’s attention was drawn to some of the younger children climbing the rocks. She moved to help them get down.
“We climb around here all the time,” Daphne said, explaining to Psyche.
“Someone might get hurt,” Psyche said, with a smile. She continued gesturing and helping the children down.
They moved on to play somewhere else.
The group had reached the row of houses and Psyche hugged the children. They all said their goodbyes. The older children needed to hurry and eat before returning again to the school. The younger ones were done for the day.
Psyche had to hurry along herself. She had a few more stops to make before returning to the palace.
