Humility is of the most vital importance to the spiritual life of the Christian. On this virtue it could be argued all others are dependent. St. Augustine says:

Humility is the foundation of all the virtues; therefore, in a soul where it does not exist here can be no true virtue, but the mere appearance only. In like manner, it is the most proper disposition for all celestial gifts. And, finally, it is so necessary to perfection, that of all the ways to reach it, the first is humility; the second, humility; the third, humility. And if the question were repeated a hundred times, I should always give the same answer.

Charity is built upon humility, for humility enables us to see the vast worth of others and the merit in sacrificing ourselves for their sakes. In humility we are able to reject our own wants and desires in favor of serving those around us. Through humility we learn to mortify our own wills, to not feel in any way ‘worthy’ of attaining what we want. Our greatest joy comes in giving our all.

Obedience is built upon humility, for humility makes us conscious of our position in respect to others. We see the vast difference between God and ourselves, and are aware of how far His ways are above our ways, which inspires us to a perfect obedience to His will. Humility aids us in our obedience to others; for the princess this generally means to our parents. I think I would be saying that the vast majority of the time our inclination to disobedience doesn’t stem from a disagreement on the necessity of doing what we’ve been commanded, or an objection to the morality of what is being asked, but a frank a very human dislike of saying: “Yes, sir,” and obeying. Humility is the contrast to this pride.

Reverence is built upon humility, in many ways like obedience. We are conscious of how far above us our God is, and are filled with awe and a holy fear.

Humility is the key to joy and wonder. The princess should never be complacent in her position in life. She should never consider her position as a princess as only natural, or as making sense, or as being proper. She should always be aware of the huge condescension on God’s part, and it should always astound her.

That God created us is amazing enough. That a Being completely sufficient in Himself, having no lack of anything, should create us simply because He wanted to, because He loved us, should baffle us beyond words.

That we are alive at all, created in His image, is extraordinary. That He actually cares intimately for us, and loves each one of us in a profoundly personal way, is additionally wondrous. He didn’t merely create us on a whim and then leave us to ourselves. One could say in a sense that though He does not technically need us, for there is no void in Him to be filled, He loves us so much that He has chosen to need us. Though the gift of life would have been beyond any repaying, for Him it was not enough. He wanted to give us more than just life, but an eternal life with Him.

And for this purpose He became Incarnate, and suffered and died a hideous death. At this point our amazement would rightly turn to a sense of fear. That an all-powerful God would create us, love us, and then become one of us and die for us is beyond the scope of all human imagination. He has done the unimaginable, for completely inferior and unworthy creatures. He has done it freely, out of love.

That we are princesses should not be a source of complacency to us. It should, if we were to really and genuinely think of it, scare us nearly out of our wits. That the King created us, loved us, became one of us and died for us… this is already too much to comprehend. That in addition, as a finishing touch, He should actually take His servants to His Heart as children is unthinkable. And, yet… it’s true.

We are princesses by virtue of an extraordinary condescension on His part. We are not worthy to even be his slaves, yet He offers Himself as a Father and Brother.

The eighth psalm should be constantly in our souls and minds. It is very similar to Mary’s Magnificat, in that it is both a recognition of the great honours that God has bestowed upon us and a humble proclamation that to God belongs all praise and glory, that it is not through our merit that we are so blessed but through His goodness.

For I will behold thy heavens, the work of thy fingers: the moon and the stars which thou hast founded. What is man, that thou art mindful of him? or the son of man, that thou visitest him? Thou hast made him a little less than the angels, thou hast crowned him with glory and honour. And hast set him over the works of thy hands.

This is the attitude the princess should have towards the wonder of the love God has shown her. She is not worthy to approach Him. She dares to, though, because His love asks it of her, and her love compels her.

Humility is one of the chief characteristics of the princess. She constantly looks to the superiority of her King in contrast to her own unworthiness, and to the example of her Queen, who in the midst of all her honour and glory professed only that she was His handmaiden.

For the Introduction and Parts 1-9, click here.

What should courtesy in dress look like these days? In the past fashion dictated courtesy. Now things aren’t so difficult, since fashion is indifferent, if not outright opposed, to the idea of courtesy. Because society is indifferent we women have no guide as to what it would expect if it were to expect anything. I stated earlier that I mean to avoid any particulars, and I was sincere. I’m not going to give a guide of what details of clothing will exhibit good manners in public. I think it should be fairly obvious that there is a great difference between pajamas and a nice top paired with a good skirt or pair of jeans. There are, however, two qualities which are essential to the character of a princess which are a huge benefit (speaking from personal experience) to discerning how courtesy in dress should look.

The first of these is modesty. Depending on the circles you move in, modesty either means something akin to chains or something akin to beauty. As far as the Church is concerned, modesty is akin to beauty. It has no relation to chains and bondage; in fact it has everything to do with freedom. Modesty frees women from objectification. It gives her the freedom to be beautiful without sacrificing her dignity, and to have dignity without sacrificing beauty.

The modest woman is often compared, very wrongly, to a caged bird. Such vitality, such life, such passion, one says, could be seen in the poor creature if only she were allowed to spread her wings. Perhaps I’m making the mistake of going for the obvious conclusion, but when I see a group of people standing around the bird cage, gawking at the bright colors and sweet singing, I’m more inclined to think of the girl who exposes herself to the gawking of all around her, rather than the modest woman. The modest woman sees her body as something beautiful in itself, as something of worth even when she stands in the forest alone; the woman who doesn’t see the value of modesty views her body as something that can only have worth through others. She is the one who flaunts her bright feathers and her voice for the applause of others. She is in a worse position than the bird in the cage. The latter sings regardless of whether anyone stands by to listen, because singing gives it joy; the former sings only to be heard by others, and not because she has joy but because she doesn’t, and is seeking it.

Through modesty a woman recognizes her immense dignity, and demands that others recognize it as well. Additionally through modesty recognizes the dignity of all others; for in choosing to dress modestly she is not acknowledging merely her own personal dignity but the dignity of women at large. It is because she respects the dignity of all women that she, being a member of that group, chooses modesty for herself. Modesty is often touted as a ‘personal decision,’ but it is the farthest thing from it. A modest woman is not making a statement just about herself. She is making a statement about all women, about what she believes womanhood to be. It’s for this reason, I would guess, that many feminist types reject modesty not for their own selves but on principle.

There are always going to be various standards of modesty. These standards don’t change only with culture and time, but also with individuals. Many have been set forward as the only way, though without any proper authority. Some will say that sleeveless is inappropriate; some will say sleeves above the elbow are the height of immodesty. Some will say the skirt can’t go above the knee; some will say not above the ankle. In some guidebooks a skirt is the only way to be modest. It can be confusing to try to navigate through all the various opinions and reach the one right answer. As frustrating as it is, there is no one right answer. The Church hasn’t gone into the details of clothing. The Church has acknowledged that there will always be cultural differences. There is only one rule that spans all times and places: that clothing be reflective of man’s dignity.

What this means is that trying to set down definite rules of modesty is going to prove ultimately futile. This doesn’t mean that there isn’t any benefit in discussing the matter. I’ve found that musing over it with other ladies has been very beneficial in helping me form my own standards, and understand better the beauty of modesty as a whole. But in every discussion I’ve been a part of the end result is always the same: however many interesting points may have been made, however much wisdom has been offered, there is no final consensus. The Church hasn’t spoken, and we’re faced with the awkward yet awesome truth that the world is bigger than we know.

What this does not mean, however, is that anything goes. The Church hasn’t laid out specifics, but she has drawn a very firm line. Her line of dignity is a firmer line than a line such as “no skirts above the knee” or “no sleeves above the elbow.” The line of dignity is a real line. Any other lines that individuals draw are all dependent on that one line. That one line is the reason for every other line as far as modesty is concerned. That one line is the Line. Far from saying anything goes, it proclaims quite firmly: No Further.

This series actually comes from the fragments of a book I was writing towards the end of 2008. At that point in my life the future was very uncertain. A few months into the project, however, my application to Thomas Aquinas College was accepted and it became clear that God was going to keep me very busy for at least the next four years, and so the project never came to fruition. Browsing through old files, however, I stumbled across it, and I thought it was worth publishing as a series on this blog. It is incomplete (I was about halfway through when it had to be set aside), but hopefully there’s still a lot to think about.
 

She remembered that once, when she was a little girl, she had seen a pretty young woman with golden hair down to her knees in a long flowered dress, and she had said to her, without thinking, “Are you a princess?” The girl had laughed very kindly at her and asked her what her name was. Blanche remembered going away from her, led by her mother’s hand, thinking to herself that the girl really was a princess, but in disguise. And she had resolved that, someday, she would dress as though she were a princess in disguise.

 ~ from The Shadow of the Bear by Regina Doman ~

I first read this passage when I was eight years old. It struck me then, as it strikes me now. The concept of a princess in disguise is a beautiful one. As a girl who has always loved to dress up and who has always loved tales of chivalry and romance I’ve spent a fair amount of time in fantastic costumes, pretending that I was a beautiful and noble lady with a palace of roses for my own.

I don’t think I’ve grown out of that. I still do long to be a princess. And it has occurred to me, for the first time, that such a lofty goal isn’t quite out of reach.

As we leave childhood and find that we are young adults the world begins to put a tremendous pressure on us to get our heads out of the clouds, plant our feet on firm ground, and start looking at life realistically. Now that we’re no longer little girls we should put the dreams of being a princess behind us and start being more realistic. College, career, money, and success should be our main focus now.

I would contest, however, that they are the ones with their heads in the clouds, and being so surrounded by all the whiteness, they’ve forgotten what the world looks like. We in fairyland do have our feet planted firmly on the ground. Because of this we can see the clouds. They are above us, and we look up at them with wonder and joy. For us, on the ground, the world is wide and full of mystery. The nay-sayers frantically climb a ladder that leads to nowhere. We in fairyland walk a straight road which winds both through all of life’s pleasures and pains. The path is strewn with roses at times, and other times thorns; we wouldn’t give up any of it. That is reality, and we on the ground accept it merrily. Those that live in the clouds can only go down; the fairylanders that stand in the world, where fantasy and unwavering truth live together, anticipate the ascent.

This book isn’t meant to be particularly philosophical or deep. I consider it no more than a little picnic in fairyland, though this doesn’t imply that there is no realistic meaning to be found on that merry romp. Fairy-tales tell us truth. They tell it to us in a magical way that makes us conscious of the fact that truth is wondrous, fantastical, and wildly beautiful. As G.K. Chesterton - who will be a chief companion in this exploration of fairyland - said: “These tales say that apples were golden only to refresh the forgotten moment when we found that they were green. They make rivers run with wine only to make us remember, for one wild moment, that they run with water.”

And perhaps this book will turn us into princesses only to make us remember, for one wild moment, that we are daughters of the King.