I’m recalling the sound of my mother’s warm, reassuring voice. Yesterday, while I was in bed with the flu, she told me this story:
“Something you find difficult, something you don’t want, can prove to be a wonderful gift. You know, Melissa, we often receive gifts without our knowledge. This is the story of a young sovereign who assumes the rule of a kingdom. He was beloved before he became king, and his subjects, delighted with his coronation, brought him ever so many gifts. After the ceremony, whilst the new king was dining in his palace, he suddenly heard a knock on the door. The servants found a shabbily dressed old man, to all appearances a beggar, who wished to see the sovereign. They did their utmost to dissuade him, but to no avail. Then the king went to meet him. The old man showered him with praise, telling him that he was very handsome, and that everyone in the kingdom was pleased to have him as sovereign. He had brought the king a gift: a melon. The king detested melons, but to be polite to the old man, he accepted it, thanked him, and the old man departed happily. The king went back inside the palace and handed the fruit to the servants, so that they might toss it into the garden.
“The next week, at the same hour, there was another knock on the door. The king was summoned once again, and the beggar lauded him, offering him another melon. The king accepted it, saluted the old man, and, once again, tossed the melon into the garden. The scene was repeated for several weeks: the king was too polite to affront the old man or to scorn the generosity of his gift.
“Then, one evening, just when the old man was about to deliver the melon to the king, an ape leapt down from a portico and caused the fruit to fall from his hands. The melon broke into a thousand pieces against the façade of the palace. When the king looked, he saw a shower of diamonds fall from the heart of the melon. Anxiously, he ran to the garden behind the palace: all the melons had turned into mounds of jewels.”
I stopped her, excited by the beautiful story, and said, “Can I infer the moral?”
She smiled and said, “Of course.”
I took a deep breath, just as I do whenever I get ready to repeat a lesson at school. “Sometimes inconvenient situations, problems, or difficulties conceal opportunities for growth; very often in the heart of difficulties shines the light of a precious jewel. It is therefore wise to welcome what is inconvenient and difficult.”
She smiled again, stroked my hair, and said, “You’ve grown, little one. You’re a princess.”
I wanted to weep, but I restrained myself. My mother didn’t know that, for me, the king’s diamonds had been the crude bestiality of boorish men incapable of love.