We’ve had a wonderful summer exploring the intersection of faith and children’s literature. We have read many popular beloved children’s books. As we conclude this series, we explore a potentially lesser known story, but a powerful one none the less.
Enjoy this thoughtful reflection from special guest, Jodi Donohue as she shares one of her childhood favorites, The king.
Dick Bruna was a Dutch author and illustrator, more commonly known for his “Miffy” books, stories about a small rabbit, drawn in heavy graphic lines. The book, The king, was mine as a child. I know, because my mother wrote my name on the inside front cover. The scribbles throughout are most definitely the work of my brother, when he came along years later. It’s a short read, appropriate for a 3 year old, but I enjoyed the book so much that I chose it to be read to me often, and it was one of the first books that I remember reading myself.
It goes like this…
“In a glass palace lived a little king. He had a golden crown which he wore all day.
Two tall thin ladies looked after the king. They fed him on sausages and chips, treacle pudding and ice cream.
Sometimes the king built castles with his box of bricks – green, yellow and red ones, as high as the sky.
Sometimes he drove his car, a real one, with a flag. But the king was lonely: he had no one to play with.
One day near the palace he saw a wooden house. It had a red roof and red shutters.
Out came a little girl called Rose. She had straight black hair. “Let’s play together,” said the king.
They played ball and hide-and-seek all over the garden till it was bedtime.
The tall thin ladies scolded the little king. “Rose has no crown,” they said. “Do not play with her again.”
“We will find a princess with golden hair and a shining crown. You shall play with her.”
The little king was very sad. The only playmate he wanted was Rose.
“I know!” he said. “I will take off my crown. Now I can play with anyone I like.” Now every day he plays with Rose. “I’d rather play than be a king,” he said.”
-”The king” By Dick Bruna
Now you might wonder why I picked this story. All of the stories we’ve heard in this Wednesday night series have been wildly popular, and this one is lesser known. It was the “Faith Like a Child” theme that inspired me to look through my own childhood books for an example of something that inspired my own faith.
This book was extremely personal to me. I identified with Rose, the little girl, who lived in a little house and had straight black hair. When I received this book, I lived in a small, 2 bedroom house with my parents, and I thought I looked like Rose. I liked to play hide and seek and I liked to play ball. I had no idea what treacle pudding was, but I thought that all of the things the king had, his fancy food, his amazing blocks and especially that fantastic real car, were things that I aspired to have as well. I knew that girls with golden hair were revered. The proof was my little sister, with her blonde hair and blue eyes. She was the darling of everyone who saw her, and even though I loved her, I was a little jealous of the attention that she received. So it made sense to me, that the adults in this story wanted to find a “princess with golden hair” to play with the king.
But the amazing twist in is story was the boy king’s actions. In spite of his rich life, he felt very lonely. His toys could not fill his life, his fancy food could not fill it, and the golden crown on his head, and the respect it commanded could not fill his life. The companionship of a yellow haired princess could not fill his life. Only the friendship of a straight black haired girl named Jodi, I mean, Rose, could fill it. And he was willing to sacrifice that life, by giving up his crown, and everything that it represented, to be with Rose.
This story was so different from the other tales I was read as a child. In those other stories of kings and princes, the girl’s were usually poor and beautiful and hard workers, but the kings and princes were “rescuing” these damsels from their life of woe, and raising them up to their level, gifting them the new status of princess and promising them a happy ever after with their riches.
The king was different. He didn’t try to compromise with the tall thin ladies to allow Rose castle-playing-privileges. He simply saw the solution as making himself like Rose, in her humble circumstance, sacrificing all that he had in order to gain their mutual happiness. I wonder if the author, in titling his book with a lower-case k in king, in contrast to grammatical protocols to capitalize in titles, was foreshadowing the little king’s humble status at the end of the book.
Two faith themes emerge from this book that resonated with me as a child.
1. People are more important than things.
The king demonstrated this when he chose Rose over his palace toys and his crown. In 1 John 2: 15-17 we hear the words “Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.” The king gave up his worldly possessions for his love of Rose. He saw value in his relationship over objects, title, or power. And realized that things cannot make him happy.
My family and I like to play “The Lottery Game”. You know the one, it’s when the Powerball is reaching an epic payout, and (with or without buying a lottery ticket) you have that in-the-car or at-the-dinner-table conversation of: what would you do if you won the lottery?
The kid’s reactions over the years ranged from, “everything in the Lego store”, “trips to Disney World”, “a farm with horses”, to “custom guitars”. I was deemed the most boring-est of players as my answers were “pay the mortgage”, “donate to charities” and “share with family and friends”. I know that the endless cycle of more and more and more doesn’t make one happy the way the love of long lasting and good relationships do. It’s probably one of the reasons Jesus said the second greatest commandment was to “Love thy neighbor” not “Love thy car”.
2. Sacrifice is a decision.
The king had the equivalent of the lottery payout, but it wasn’t making him happy, instead he sacrificed it for Rose. To sacrifice, you must give up something of value, usually to gain something, or maintain something, that you value. Sacrifice is a decision that is willingly made, and once made, carries little emotional burden. You make the decision that what you leave behind is less important than what you chose instead, and you commit to it.
Compromise is different. In compromise you give up pursuing something better, in order to not risk some current status. With compromise, you still linger in a state of not-quite-what-I-want, which diminishes the overall outcome.
If Rose was so unacceptable a playmate in the thin ladies eyes, the king could have offered some compromises like playing with Rose on Tuesday afternoon only if they stay out of site in the basement where no one could see them. Or, send Rose to an etiquette school, and upon graduation, allow her some time with the king on a limited basis in group settings only. Both might have been acceptable, but they emotionally burden the king and Rose to an extent that might have negatively affected their relationship overall, and still leaves Rose feeling like a second-class citizen.
In John 15:13 we hear the words: Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.
In my young mind, the king was giving up his life for (someone like) me. This story readied me for Sunday School, when the teacher’s lessons turned to Jesus giving up his life for the sins of humankind. Jesus was the king. Jesus loved me. His sacrifice on the cross was for my sins, for me. He gave up his life, for me. In reading and understanding this simple book, I was able to, at a young age, transition to the understanding of Jesus’ love and sacrifice on the cross.
This book, The king, is simple in it’s words and pictures, but the richness of it’s message which graced me as a child and influences me now, will never be forgotten.
May Jesus the king, bless you and keep you dear friends, and may you find happiness in his sacrifice for you. Amen.
Special thanks to guest, Jodi Donohue. Jodi is currently the Councilor for Worship & Music. At Saint Luke she has served in a variety of roles including: Councilor for Congregational Life, Confirmation teacher, Youth Councilor as well as serving on hospitality, youth, children’s church, nursery, communication and ushering teams over the years.