As a little girl, people (usually parents and teachers) tell you fairy tales of poor country girls who are kind and beautiful and wronged, and yet are able to rise above the station in which they were born with the help of a handsome and kind stranger who turns out to be a prince.

As a teenager, we girls learn that it would truly be a miracle to see one of the many boys that roamed our halls somehow turn into a prince. I suppose in countries where royalty exists, little girls do hope to be swept off their feet by a crowned prince in their country. In the U.S., however, we often see these stories as metaphors from the first time we hear them. Our "royalty" usually aren't upstanding, wealthy blue bloods whose job it is to serve their country. No, the "royalty" we follow are often morally bankrupt, although they are wealthy. For in the United States, we are taught to revere money and the status we can have once we obtain money, but we are often not taught to revere truth.

As such, when our lives have that fairy tale feel to them, we often second-guess and question the Universe. They are, however, no less fairy-tale-like and no less romantic, even if they occur in reality and not in fantasy land.

This is my fairy tale. It may look very different from Snow White, Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella and Rapunzel, but all the feelings involved make it a fairy tale of the best kind: a real one.

As a little girl, I played by myself a lot. I was an only child and my parents both worked. I didn't mind much, as I often created stories while I was alone and I found very quickly that my way of playing wasn't necessarily what the other kids wanted to do. Being used to getting my way, I didn't often play much with the other neighborhood children. When I did come upon willing playmates I was determined to keep them entertained and happy. Such was the case with Sir Joseph. 

Sir Joseph was a gallant boy who came with his own steed: a large, lovable dog named Brutus. We came upon each other in the park near my house one autumn afternoon after school. Sir Joseph was enthralled with tales of kings, queens, and knights. He carried a plastic sword and had his mother's baking pans strapped to himself as only a six-year-old boy would do. As I approached, I noticed that he was giving a speech to Brutus about loyalty and honor and defending the rights of the poor. We never introduced ourselves. I simply walked up to him in (what I regarded as) my flowing gown and addressed him. "Sir Joseph," I dubbed him, “There is much unrest in my village and I have been appointed to request your service to protect us from the gypsies who have infiltrated our quiet village and will not leave us in peace. I have heard of your noble deeds and have come to convince you in whatever way I can to aid us in our time of need." "Lady Maribel," he responded without any surprise (much to my chagrin), "I accept this quest and will begin immediately. You must show me these gypsies so come with me and I will show you how to dispel these fools so that if I am unable to aid you in the future, you will not need my help."

It was as simple as that. We met to play everyday and there was always an adventure to have or someone to fight off. He taught me much about swordplay and I taught him much about things a Lady knows: parlor games and the proper way to have tea. Our playing did not last forever, though. It was a brief encounter that I would remember fondly for the rest of my days. I had only one other friendship that was as uncomplicated as the one I had with Sir Joseph. I always attributed this to an unfettered childhood and a courageous spirit, which was taken from me as a child with the demands of schooling and housework. I learned later that it was something much more powerful and much more complicated than the childhood whimsy.

With Sir Joseph gone and my parents working, I was given chores much like other children my age. While I never complained and I completed my duties soon after I returned home from school, I no longer took walks after school. I spent most of my time at home doing homework and reading. Every fall, however, I did find it necessary to take at least one walk by the park where Sir Joseph and Lady Maribel had their many adventures. I did this long after I grew up and went to college. I always returned for one day to take a walk and reminisce about the wonderful time we had together. I often wondered if it was pathetic of me to be so nostalgic about such a short period of time and with a boy for whom I had no romantic feelings (as I was too young) and whose real name I never learned. I never pondered too much on these thoughts as they did me no good. In the end, I pushed the negative feelings aside, enjoyed the brisk cold of autumn and continued on my walk. 

Years passed and I kept my annual constitutional through the park in my childhood neighborhood, even though my parents long moved away and I had grown to adulthood with all the responsibilities and the concerns it brings. I had graduated cum laude from a good school; I had a good job that I loved; I had a few close friends; I wasn’t worried about getting married or having children, although I hoped for those things in the future. I was content and I felt my life was balanced. It wasn’t until a party for Easter I attended at a friend’s house one year that I realized just how upside down things could turn because of love. Sure, I’d had boyfriends and I’d been in love (well, I thought I’d been in love anyway), but I was the one who always ended things because, in short, I could never see myself being happy with him. None of the guys I dated ever seemed fun enough or serious enough or responsible enough. In the end, when I knew the relationship was going toward marriage, I always broke it off. Not because I wanted to be alone, not even because I didn’t care about the guy. It was mostly because I felt like there was something missing in him that I craved, even though I couldn’t pinpoint what was missing.

Then, Easter came. I had recently broken up with another guy who was falling in love with me and I was having the same issue I always had trying to figure out why I couldn’t see myself with any of these guys long term. It truly baffled me. And yet, my mind kept going back to Sir Joseph. 

So I decided to go to my friend’s, even though I’m not particularly religious. Well, to be fair, she isn’t either, but it gave her an excuse to have some people over. I decided to dress up, this being Easter and all. I was wearing what wouldn’t be called "an Easter dress," but was nice and cheerful nonetheless. I wore a long, flowing brown skirt and a white peasant top. Springlike without the nauseating spring colors. 

When I arrived at her house, I noticed how beautiful and bright the day was and how warm and homey she had made the house. I walked in the door and went to put my purse down somewhere. It was on my way to one of the back rooms that I noticed him, separated from the others yet still among them. He was a new person. One I hadn’t met before, but someone I immediately wanted to know further. He was sitting on the couch, but was staring out the window at something. I watched him all afternoon as we talked and mingled and ate. I was mesmerized by him, but couldn’t pinpoint why. 

A couple hours into the party, we were left alone together in a corner somewhere. Our host had to get food, or clean up, or something. I wasn’t paying much attention. I was so in awe of this man who I had hardly spoken with but who had my complete attention. Once she walked away, we looked into each other’s eyes and said nothing. It was unnecessary for our emotions were saying everything. This was the magic I had been waiting for. This is what was missing from all other relationships I’d had. Although we’d already been introduced, he addressed me differently. He took my hand and kissed it regally. His touch sent prickles through my entire being. “Lady Maribel,” he began and I gasped, "I have been searching the country far and wide since we parted.” Suddenly, nothing else mattered, nothing else existed. It was simply he and I again, as we were 15 years before. "For I have found no Lady anywhere who has captivated me the way you have. Although I have had other steeds and have tried to love other women, none of them have compared to you in beauty, in adventure, in kindness." Tears began rolling down my face and I could not control them, nor did I want to pull my hand away or turn my eyes from his. He looked at me, questioning my tears, but continued, "There has been no other for me but the beautiful Lady Maribel. Although I realize that there may be many obstacles in our way and that the perfection that occurred before may not be present after so much time has passed, I simply request that you will allow me to court you properly." He stopped talking and it was many minutes before I answered him. In the time that followed, I often thought about that time and wondered how nerve-racking it must have been for him. It was such a courageous thing he’d done. He knew nothing of me the last 15 years. He knew nothing of the woman I’d become. He knew nothing of my life. In fact, he didn’t even know if I was the true Lady Maribel or if I had forgotten about Sir Joseph. It was such a short period of time that we knew each other before. He hadn’t lost his sense of adventure or his courage. 

"Sir Joseph," I whispered through tears, but kept my composure, "You presume too much if you believe I will accept an offer after such a short period of time. You must think quite highly of yourself." For the second time in our lives, his lack of surprise in my reaction was a disappointment. I would find out later that he was surprised both times, but was conscious of being a true Knight. "No, I do not, Lady Maribel. I am well aware of your beauty and of how many suitors you must have. However, I have been trained to read others’ behavior and I have watched you closely today."

"Really? And what, pray tell, have you learned?"

"I have been well aware of your eyes throughout the day, Lady Maribel. You were enthralled with me from the second you entered the room when I was looking outside at the birds. You have been watching me out of the corner of your eyes all day and the beauty of their chrystal blue hue has warmed me completely. Your tears are another indicator, of which you know, of course. These two small gestures are all I need to know that you have felt my absence these years as much as I have felt yours. Knowing your need for ritual, I would even say that you have created a ritual that you perform every autumn when the leaves fall to pray for the return of Sir Joseph to help you with the gypsies and any other troublesome scallywags that cross your path. So, my Lady, I will ask for an answer."

"As you well know, an answer to my proposal, which has not left your mind since I said it. However, I will ask again. Please allow me to court you properly. I am aware that the manners involved are not the sort that you taught me, but I can assure you that I am a gentleman and I have learned from a teacher who is as adept as you are. If you accept my offer, I will do my best to treat you as a Lady of your caliber deserves and we will have greater adventures than we had before."

He looked me in the eyes when he said all this and he did not falter once to think about what he would say next. It was as if he had been planning this since he left. Thankfully, my tears had slowed, although they hadn’t stopped. I looked at him and he looked at me and I’m sure we looked quite silly standing there: he with his smug, sure look and me with a smile and tears pouring down my face. 

"Yes" was all I could say.   He still had my hand and I didn’t allow him to relinquish control. He kissed it again and smiled. Our thoughts were the same. "Come milady. We shall waste no more time."