I was going to copy this whole article like I have been the others, but I decided that because it is the last one I would encourage you to go check out this beautiful site to read it for yourselves.

But how? How to wait for him? We’re at an age that is generally marked by a great enthusiasm and impatience for the future. We have one foot in our childhood and one foot in the next stage of our life’s journey. Our growing up is darkened a little by a wistful remembrance of our childhood days, but we know we cannot go back, so we direct all our passion to the future. And we begin to see it, in a way, for the first time.

We were always observers of that future world when we were small, and in fact we observed far more keenly that many of the inhabitants did. But we didn’t think about it too much; our business was with the occupants of fairyland, with the merriness and the magic and the hard unwavering code of morality. Quite naturally we had no interest in living anywhere else.

And then we began to get older. We’re the fortunate ones whose severance from childhood wasn’t quite so difficult to bear. It didn’t make us cynics, and it didn’t make us bleak. Our passage was gentler, for though we lost the unspeakable innocence of that time, we still had our sense of wonder. We didn’t believe Peter Pan when he said that one could be too old for fairyland. Fairyland was for children, but age had nothing to do with it. The words we believed were the words of Christ, who said that we must be as little children if we wanted to pass through the gate.

That’s why we’re here in fairyland now, sitting out on the tower balcony. The weather is very good, of course; it’s inconceivable to think of the princess waiting in poor weather (though one never does know… her prince might make his appearance on a rainy day). It’s most likely a warm day in late spring or early summer, for that’s the time of year when princesses sit on their balconies most often. That’s the time of year when her friends are riding off with their princes to their happily ever afters, and she is left alone, wondering what could be delaying her own.

She’s still in fairyland, though she grows older. In one way fairyland is more real to her than it was when she was a child. As a child she listened to the tales of love and romance; and now she realizes with a great thrill that for her it could actually be true. The future looks exciting, full of both challenges that she longs to overcome and joys that she longs to experience. She’s in an extraordinarily awkward position, for though she just got over her little period of mourning for the past, she has accepted that the future is what she is called to. And just as the acceptance turns to a wild eagerness and she prepares to set out, something says: “Wait.”

It could be that it’s only the absence of a prince that restrains her; or it could be that even if he were to come at that moment she would still linger back because the King calls her to something else at this time. Whatever the reason, she finds herself come to an abrupt standstill just as she was picking up the momentum to go into the future world.

And this is where we find her, and where I find myself. Waiting.

One could come to the conclusion that waiting is a very easy thing to do. All one has to do is sit back, enjoy life, and wait for the good things to come. The balcony is a pleasant spot, what with the sunshine and magnificent view of the land, and sooner or later he surely will come up the road.

A princess could get the idea that because she is called to waiting it follows that she is called to inaction. And there is that passive form of waiting. There is, however, another kind of waiting, a kind that is very active and involved in setting the course for the future. It doesn’t wait for the tides to turn this way and that, or for the breeze the blow hither and thither. This waiting, though it is waiting, is undertaken in a way that the princess takes advantage of all her opportunities, prepares for the future, and directs the course of her life.

I’m not necessarily talking about going out and looking for a man. I don’t have any disagreement with this, though I don’t have any words of advice to offer. I’ve heard that church groups and other such places where you’ll meet likeminded Catholics are advisable, but I have no personal experience. The path my King has set before me is the path to college, and trying to find a husband before I go could very easily lead me off of that path.

I’m not saying either that a girl has to go to college. I’m talking about no specifics whatsoever; it’s the attitude that I’m concerned with. Wherever God calls her to go, whether it be to actively search for a spouse, or go into the work world, or go to college, or stay home as I have for all the past years of my life, there is one thing that every girl should have in common: the way she undertakes her waiting.

For the Introduction and Parts 1-16, please click the link in my sidebar.

The princess who has found the secret of Surprise has found the secret to joy and peace. She is confident because she is entirely open to God’s will. For her life is an adventure, and her waiting is tempered with a great anticipation. She believes that her prince will come around the bend someday; but she doesn’t know what he’ll be like – beyond certain obvious traits, such as devotion to God, maturity, responsibility, and such, which will be necessary if he’s to make a good husband and father.

She expects nothing, because she wants to be surprised.

In Chesterton’s play of that name – The Surprise – the King is to be married to the Princess Christina, for he promised to make her his wife when he was young. His heart, however, belongs to the lady Maria. Nevertheless, he goes to the altar to fulfill his promise and marry the Princess. After the ceremony is performed he lifts the veil from her face and sees that it is Maria, his beloved, who is his wife. He gives a great cry, and the Princess, who has remained behind after switching places with Maria, says: “That is the cry that has not been heard on earth since it was heard in Eden. It is the cry of Surprise.”

The girl who has planned out the entire course of her romance without the input of one of the principal players – her man – sets herself up for disappointment, because chances are she never will meet the man who lives up to her many and detailed expectations. And even in the event that she does find that man, it was only what she expected.

The girl who believes in the Surprise wants both to give and hear that cry of Eden. The King in the play removed the veil from his bride and saw that she was not the woman he expected, but the woman he loved. When the prince rides up to her tower the princess does not want to see the man she expected, but the man she loves. She doesn’t want the experience to be routine, but so astonishing that she is always full of wonder and gratitude.

This isn’t to say that she has no expectations whatsoever. Both for her own sake and for his she must have very high standards. But there is, I think it will be acknowledged, a difference between standards and whims. There is a difference between saying: “He must be a Catholic,” and saying: “He must be familiar with Mozart.” There is a difference between saying that he must be capable of caring for a family and saying that he must be capable of dancing quite beautifully.

Standards are a necessity. The princess is too precious to give herself to just any man that happens to come along. She respects him too much to make it too easy. This will be addressed more fully later.

Whims are no more than that, though. They change often. I know this from personal experience. I had all sorts of ideas about what my man would be like as a young teenager. That picture looked different every year. And I decided eventually that it was nonsensical, and that I didn’t want to build my vision of marriage on that. I didn’t want a man who was everything I wanted and nothing of himself. Not only did I want to be surprised by him in himself, but I wanted to be surprised by everything that he knew that I didn’t. I wanted to be grateful for every way in which he differed from me. I wanted him to introduce me to things that I knew nothing about, and I wanted to have the immense joy and pleasure of sharing my loves with him. If he didn’t know how to dance, very well; we’d have ever so many delightful evenings dedicated to that. And whatever he knew that I didn’t, I would learn, and so many new and wonderful things would be opened to me.

And that is where I stand now: waiting, with high standards but no whims. I expect nothing. I expect nothing not to avoid disappointment, but I wait in hope and anticipation, and when I go out on my tower balcony to watch that road for a few moments, I murmur Chesterton’s words softly to myself: “Blessed are they that expecteth nothing, for they shall be gloriously surprised.”

I want and wait for the Surprise.

For the Introduction and Parts 1-15, please click the link in my sidebar.

She wants him. This general notion of wanting him is natural, and can apply to all princesses.

Certain specifics, however, are dependent on the individual. All princesses want him, but they will vary on what they want in him. Every princess has some standards. Unfortunately some of them fall into the trap of elevating mere whims into standards, and their longing becomes very self-absorbed. Rather than look to give of themselves their outlook is decidedly greedy.

Amongst my acquaintances we refer to it as “Anne Shirley syndrome.” Those of you familiar with the series by L.M. Montgomery will have an idea of what this looks like. Anne was an extremely idealistic and romantic girl, which I have no objections to. The problem lies in the way in her faulty understanding of ideals and romance. As a young girl she paints a vivid picture of her ideal man: dark, melancholy, full of poetry and moonlight, and so forth.

Many girls have similar ‘ideals.’ Handsome, they say, and he must be wealthy (or he mustn’t be), and he must play a musical instrument, and he must like such-and-such type music and read such-and-such books, and he must dress in this way, and speak in that way, and so on and so forth.

Frankly I don’t think that this sort of obsession with non-essentials is laying a good foundation for a solid marriage. It’s very self-centered. It’s all about what she wants and requires. She has unrealistic demands and expects him to fulfill all her wishes to the minutest detail. There is no sense of giving in her attitude towards him.

I have a feeling that she wouldn’t be so thrilled if she were to find out that she was excluded from the list of many men because she didn’t possess certain qualities. Imagine that you meet a wonderful young man, and you’re growing fond of one another, and… you don’t quite fit his list, because your taste in music isn’t similar enough to his, and out you go.

There would be enough pain in knowing that he disqualified you right from the start because you didn’t dress the way he deemed ideal. You would probably feel a bit of anger and irritation. In fact, you would probably figure that you wouldn’t want to attach yourself to such a man anyway.

So consider that a good man might not want to attach himself to such a girl who would reject him on the basis of his hair color or his favorite book.

Some standards are necessary; but mere details should never be required. The fundamental frame of mind behind that obsession with non-essentials strikes me as being the same as that which is behind lust. It’s a reducing a human being into mere characteristics. In the case of lust, one reduces another into no more than a body; and in the case of foolish requirements one reduces another into no more than a collection of interests, tastes, and abilities.

A man is not a possession. He’s not like the particular outfit that you have in mind to wear. For that outfit you plan out all the details: there will be a tuck here, a pocket there, and the fabric will be of such a colour and such a pattern. You can’t do that to a man. It’s degrading to his humanity. He is created in the image of God, and has a great dignity.

We women justly complain when a man considers as a collection of body parts. Young ladies – particularly us, the romantic princesses – have a great temptation to do something similar thing to men, and instead of looking at them as individuals possessed of a great dignity we consider them to be a collection of various traits.

It is a lust, of a different sort. It has little respect for human dignity, it looks only at what it can take and have, and it demands everything of others while being unwilling to sacrifice anything of its own.

And then there’s the Surprise.

For the Introduction and Parts 1-14, please click the link in my sidebar.

There is one thing that should be addressed right away: there is nothing wrong with wanting him. I stress this particularly because I’ve talked with many young girls who are alive with dreams of love, and I’ve often noticed that they have a tendency towards embarrassment about admitting that they long for their prince to come riding to the castle gate. I’ve heard this longing covered in a great variety of ways; most generally it’s put in terms of simply wanting to be a mother, and “I have to be a wife first so naturally getting married is the first step.”

It’s entirely commendable both to aspire to motherhood and to understand that motherhood exists in the concept of marriage. And perhaps many of these girls are sincere. Perhaps they don’t really care about men, but just realize that they need one if they’re to have children.

But I have a suspicion that the vast majority at the very least are trying to, in a sense, soften what would otherwise be an outright statement that they long to love and be loved. I wonder if it isn’t society to a certain extent that has made us young ladies afraid to admit that we want romance. Society is all about a particular form of romance, which I happen to think is very unromantic, and we begin to feel a lot of pressure if we approach our later teenage years and have never had a date. Society considers it very important that we all indulge in as much ‘free love’ as possible.

Yet if we were to dare to admit that we want real genuine love, a love that is wholly romantic because it is committed, a love that asks us to give and not to take, and to be self-sacrificing, in brief if we were to admit that what we really want is one man, one love, and marriage… well, the only thing worse is to state that you’re giving up men, that you’re going to give your all to Christ and become a religious.

There is that attitude on the part of society which can intimidate us and make us hesitant to admit to the fact that we very much do long for a prince.

I also wonder whether the attitude of some Christians makes us rather ashamed of our dreams as well. There is a notion that we should be content as we are, a notion that I fully agree with, and will discuss later. What I don’t agree with is the direction that this notion takes on the part of some: they say that contentment in our present state rules out longing for any other state. A single girl should be content, and if she wants to be a married girl she is demonstrating that she isn’t sufficiently open to God’s will.

It’s understandable that a girl would be reluctant to say to a person with such a view that she dreams of marriage.

So, again: there is nothing wrong with wanting him. It’s entirely natural, and I don’t mean just in the biological sense. Some people do try to reduce the longing to no more than the “ticking clock.” You long for marriage, they say, because of your natural instinct to procreate and propagate the human race.

I can’t go for that. I can’t accept that that’s all it is. If it were no more than that, it would be no more than that. What I’m trying to say is: if the continuation of the human race was the only consideration then our desire would be to, putting it delicately, procreate.

But that is not all that we long for. Nor is it just a hormonal thing, a quest for pleasure. There is no denying, of course, the extraordinary beauty of the marital embrace, especially when the aspect of procreation isn’t excluded, and there is no denying the central part it plays in married life.

If that one aspect were the only consideration, however, it wouldn’t be marriage that we would long for. Reducing our longing to a longing for only that one particular aspect removes all the human and spiritual elements from the relationship.

Why marriage anyway? If procreation or pleasure is all that the longing consists of, why do we so deeply desire to commit ourselves to one man through solemn vows before God? Why do we long for it to be something that lasts throughout our lifetimes, even when procreation is no longer a consideration? Why do we want only this one, even if we were to be separated from him and never enjoy the joy of his embrace? Why is that that joy that we long for isn’t a way of seeking pleasure, a taking, but a complete and utter giving?

For us there is more than instinct and more than greed. Our desire isn’t only for a unity of bodies, but of souls. This desire can be traced back to the beginning, when God looked over His creation and said: “It is not good for man to be alone.” And that has echoed in our minds and souls ever since.

A girl should never have to feel ashamed that those words are echoing in her own heart as well. There is nothing unnatural or silly about her desire for her prince. She wants to see him, hear him, touch him, have his love, and she wants to give her life and love to him. She recognizes that there is something missing in her life and soul, and that it is the complement to her womanhood and femininity. She longs, you might say, for her completion.

For the Introduction and Parts 1-13, please click the link in my sidebar.

Fairy-tales very often present us with the picture of the princess that we have already to some extent considered: graceful, kind, pure, and so forth. This is a common image in the average fairy-tale. Another point that fairy-tales often have in common is the character of the prince. He seeks out the princess, woos her, marries her, and they live happily ever after.

And the average princess does, I think, long for a prince and for that ‘happily ever after.’ The average princess has quite a heart for romance, and she both appreciates the love stories she comes across in her life and longs very much for her own. She longs for her own prince, who will love her and win her; she longs for her own wedding of bells and flowers; and she longs for her own happily ever after and the fulfillment of all her dreams.

I think that she generally too longs for something a bit beyond that. She doesn’t picture just a vague and general ‘happily ever after.’ She pictures what her life will be like after the wedding bells are silenced. She pictures a love that is strengthened through the vows of commitment and devotion; she pictures cradles and sweet baby faces; she pictures little children learning to walk and talk, growing older and older; she pictures seeing them as she once was, young and full of dreams and hopes; she pictures them in love and hears the wedding bells once again; and she pictures at last being old, with her prince still by her side through all the years.

Some princesses have found the princes and are in the midst of being won; others are still waiting and dreaming. For the purposes of this book we’ll look at the latter princess. She’s the princess who sits at her window every so often, watching the road that leads up to her castle and wondering when some prince will come around the bend and claim her as his bride.

Perhaps she’s only just begun to wait, and perhaps she has been waiting for some time. Regardless, she is waiting, and it cannot be denied that even in the waiting, even before she knows who he is, the prince plays a large part in her life and exerts a large influence on her. Though in a certain sense one could say that he belongs only to the future, his presence is still very strong in her present life. She doesn’t know who he is; but she considers often what he should be, and what she should be to him.

To the window then, where princesses gaze out and sigh with wistfulness and longing.

For the Introduction and Parts 1-12, click the link in my sidebar.

How does this apply to the princess? It addresses the idea of her castle. The princess shouldn’t wander randomly throughout fairyland, with no place to settle and no firm foundation on which to rest her feet. She has a King, and presumably He has a castle. His castle is the Church. The laws of the castle are His laws, which He sets forth for the benefit of all who reside in the castle, but also for those who still wander through fairyland, looking for their home. The King has sent out the invitations. Some of them rejected the invitation; some of them accepted it joyfully but misunderstood. Our most fervent prayer is that sooner or later their eyes will turn to the hills and they will see the castle, its spires shining in the sunlight and the banners spread out in the wind, and the King standing at the gate, waiting to bring them in.

The Queen stands beside Him, as beautiful as He is handsome, as gentle as He is strong, and she shows the way through the gate. The gate is narrow, and can only be passed through by those who make themselves small through their humility and their obedience.

As a princess residing in this glorious castle of the King, it is your duty to conform to the laws of that castle. Wholly. Completely. Without exception. Not only for the benefit of your own soul, but as an example to those who have come to the gate of the castle and wonder what those inside are like.

There’s another subject concerning obedience which is not entirely aside from your submission to the King and the laws of His castle. It is related to them because the authority of these superiors is derived from God’s authority. We’re speaking here of the earthly authorities which command your respect. For the average princess this authority is present in the form of her parents. In a certain respect parents are, to their children, representative of God. And insofar as their commands aren’t contrary to the laws of the castle, they should be obeyed.

One point to consider is the close relation that the family and society at large have. The society is built on the family, and the stronger the family the stronger the society. All civilization begins at home.

There is also a close relation between the family and the Church. The family should mirror the Church in many aspects. There is first the relationship between husband and wife, which should mirror the relationship between Christ and His Church. The relationship between parent and child should be like the proper relationship between the Church and her people; that is, the parent has the welfare of the child in mind in all orders and directives, and the child understands this and obeys even against natural inclination. Finally the relationship between the children should be like the relationship between the members of the Church: supporting each other in all ways, praying for each other, working for one another, and serving each other.

If the family is modeled after these relationships in the Church, then the society, being largely influenced by the nature of the family, will benefit greatly. There will be a strong Catholic influence on that society. Your part in obedience to your parents is in that case not only important in keeping the stability and proper roles in your family, but additionally in helping to balance society as a whole. This is a huge responsibility, but viewed in the context of the fact that we are princesses it is only natural. Princesses have always had the power to influence society; take in case the Princess Christina in G.K. Chesterton’s delightful play The Surprise, who through her goodness and charity brings her land to peace and contentment.

We’ve talked a lot about how various aspects of your life are going to be indicative of your relationship to God. This is no exception. Your obedience to your parents is going to indicate your strength in that virtue, especially as it is usually harder to submit to the authority of our parents than anyone else… and curiously enough their closeness to our hearts makes it at times more difficult than less so.

But it is in this particular form of obedience that you will really prove how seriously you take the importance of obedience and your duty to your King and His castle. And if the practice of obedience is indeed something that you take seriously not exclusively because of a feeling of obligation but also a strong desire to conform yourself entirely to the will of God and become holy then it is not enough merely to obey.

There are, as I see it, two different types of obedience. One is the obedience of necessity. The person is in a situation, say for instance employed by another, which requires him to obey the directives given. He naturally obeys, because it is part of his job and it benefits him to do so.

The other is the obedience of virtue, which is what the princess should exercise. She obeys partly from a certain necessity – she recognizes fully the necessity of obedience to God – but firstly because she believes obedience to be a good thing in itself. In other words, she expects no recompenses for her obedience, no benefits, save the grace which she acquires in her soul.

This obedience is marked not only by a constant practice of the virtue itself, but also by the attitude which accompanies it. Like the Blessed Virgin, those who practice obedience as a virtue have no murmur of complaint. Their service is given willingly, wholly, and joyfully. Providing that she has not been commanded to sin, the princess obeys whatever the order, no matter how ridiculous or distasteful it seems, and she not only obeys but obeys with joy, without complaint, without murmur, without question.

This is what sets apart a mere technical obedience from a supernatural obedience which will purify the soul and draw it to holiness. This latter obedience is what your Queen possessed and practiced, and which all her daughters should achieve as well.

For the Introduction and Parts 1-11, click here.

Just as the Blessed Virgin exemplified the virtue of humility, she also demonstrates to us what obedience should look like. Built on the foundation of that perfect humility, her obedience is one of the ways in which the former manifested itself. Though she had been elevated to a position above all other women, to the role of Mother of God, she continued to view herself as primarily a handmaiden of the Lord, and behaved as such.

The first instance in which this is strikingly visible is in the case of the Annunciation, and the response she gave to the angel Gabriel when he told her of God’s plan. She didn’t phrase her response in such a way that she said: “Very well, I accept.” She didn’t respond in such a way that she appeared to be accepting an extraordinary honour, which in fact she was. In such a situation a natural response would be to feel, frankly, rather flattered. Mary’s response was very supernatural.

Though she had indeed a choice in the matter, the freedom to refuse the message of the angel, she was entirely open to God’s will. Not just in the way that she accepted His will, because as we’ve said her response was phrased so, but in such a way that the implication was that there was no choice but the will of God. Her answer was not: “I accept,” but: “Behold the handmaid of the Lord: be it done to me according to your word.”

This is perfect obedience. While there is one reality, the one that we all have free will and that we therefore have the choice to do good as well as evil, there is also the reality of the Blessed Virgin and the saints who, while still retaining their free will, are at such a high level of holiness and so wholly conformed to God’s will that for them there is but one choice: to do what He wants.

Mary shows not only the utmost obedience to God directly, but also through her obedience to those He placed in authority over her; that is, St. Joseph. And this is really exceptional, if you consider it. Consider the fact that Mary was, through the grace of God, entirely sinless. Christ, because He was and is God, was also entirely sinless. The only imperfect member of the family was, in fact, that member who had authority over the other two: the head of the household, the father.

But just as Christ, God made Man, was obedient to His parents, so Mary was obedient to her husband even though she was immaculately conceived and he was not. She followed him, without question, though it caused her a great deal of discomfort and pain.

In obedience to both the leading authority and her husband she left her home of Nazareth to travel to Bethlehem, despite the fact that she was heavily pregnant at the time. There was no room for them at the inn; so she had no choice but to give birth to her child in a stable, and had no place to lay him but a manger.

Though St. Joseph is portrayed as having what you might call fears and doubts, particularly upon first learning that his betrothed is pregnant, there is no hint in the Gospels of any slightest murmur of complaint or worry from Mary. She is humble, obedient and silent.

Following the journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem and the birth of the Christ Child, the Holy Family is called once again to the road, this time to escape from the King Herod. So soon after her last journey, which she undertook while pregnant, and so soon after actually giving birth to her Son, Mary is called to exile in Egypt. Again, there is no questioning, no doubt, no complaint. St. Joseph rises after his dream and they leave that night, swiftly and silently.

At the wedding in Cana Mary instructs the servers that they do but one thing: “Do whatever he tells you.” She stresses this. Whatever He tells you, you do. She said explicitly to them then; and she tells us just as firmly, through her example of perfect obedience.

Obedience is fundamental to the service of God. I often think that a holy obedience would be greatly feared by the devil. Mary’s Fiat is utterly contrary to his non serviam. And I think often also that if there were one vice that he would want to encourage in us, it would be our inclination to disobedience. He would want us to echo every day of our lives, with him: “I will not serve.”

Frankly spoken, obedience is a very painful virtue to learn. It requires us to suppress our own wants. It requires us to accept authority, to accept the fact that someone stands above us and has a better right to dictate how things should be done.

But, again: it’s fundamental. The first, and most obvious, instance can be taken in the instance of obeying the Church. There are those who say that they accept the authority of God but not the authority of the Church. The fact is that accepting the authority of the Church is just plain harder to stomach. To say: “I accept the authority of God,” leaves some ambiguity and room for variation. It can lead, in fact, to doing anything but accepting the authority of God. It can lead to us deciding what God wants, and it often does.

Accepting the authority of the Church, however, is ultimately accepting the authority of God. God’s commands are clearly spelled out. They’re laid out distinctly in the doctrines of the Church, and there is no getting around them. Understandably one would prefer to follow ‘God’ in oppose to the Church, because one can form his own God who commands only what the listener prefers to hear. God, however, who speaks through the Church, is unalterable. He has been and always will be. He won’t change for the times, He won’t change to make things easier. His laws are not dependent on the individual. They exist whether we do or not. To accept that is difficult.

The supposed arrogance of Catholics has been spoken of at many times. “How can those Catholics have such arrogance to believe that they and they alone possess the truth?” the query is put. This is rather ridiculous. For Catholics to believe that their Church and their Church alone possess the truth is hardly arrogant. It is the opposite of arrogance. It is a complete abasement of self and selfish desires, and a complete humility. In conquering pride Catholics admit that there is one truth, and that they must conform themselves to it. To acknowledge that there is a hard, unwavering, and everlasting truth, and that it will make no concessions for them, and then to submit to that truth is hardly arrogance.

Is it arrogant to say: “I am wrong, wholly wrong, and I have always been wrong, and will always be wrong?” That’s precisely what Catholics say. Being conscious of their own wrongness they look outside of themselves for the right. Catholics don’t say: “I and I alone possess the truth.” They say: “I do not possess the truth. The Church and the Church alone possess the Truth. Therefore there is nothing for it. I will have to abandon all my inclinations, all of my desires, all of my reasonings, all of everything, and submit wholly, humbly, and perfectly to the Church.”

This is hardly arrogance. It is arrogant to say: “I do not believe that the Church possesses the truth. In fact, I do not believe that there is such a thing as truth. Therefore, I will decide what is truth and what is not.” Those people are the ones who arrogantly grasp at power; Catholics relinquish their power and obey.

The arrogance and desire for power is not confined only to those who never accepted the Church, but those who once accepted it and came to deny. I have specifically in mind the women who, in contrary to the commands of the Church, have a hankering to become priests. They insist most stridently that it isn’t about gaining power, but a deep longing to serve God through His Church. I can’t accept that such is the case. They say: “I wish to serve.” The Church replies: “And I wish you to serve. Will you truly serve, forsaking all your own desires and accepting the authority above you? Then I ask you to do so. I ask you to accept the authority which says that the priesthood is beyond your grasp.” And then, despite all their earlier clamourings that they wish to serve without and reserve, they respond: “Non serviam.”

For the Introduction and parts 1-10, click here.

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.

Once upon a time then, understanding that phrase to mean really and truly in a historical time, a messenger from heaven called Gabriel came to the town of Nazareth where a young girl, by the name of Mary, lived in those unexceptional servants. His presence enough must have been extraordinary; and the manner in which he greeted her was equally startling. “Hail, full of grace,” he said. And he told her that she had God’s favor; that the Holy Spirit would descend upon her; that she would become the Mother of God.

That Mary is fully conscious of what this implies is obvious from the words she speaks to her cousin Elizabeth, in that magnificent poem of praise and joy that we know as the Magnificat. The Mighty One has done great things for her. All generations will call her blessed. She has been called to a role in the history of salvation unlike any other, a unique role that belongs only to one. Of saints, scholars, Popes, Doctors of the Church… they go in a continuous stream to the throne of God. But to be the Mother of that God, to sit on the throne of Heaven as His Queen… there could only ever be woman to fill that role.

While she recognizes and acknowledges the great heights to which she has been raised, the glorious calling that will still be sung and praised thousands of years later, she responds with a humility so profound that one can only echo the words of the angel Gabriel: “Hail Mary, full of grace!” and repeat her own words: “All generations shall call you blessed.”

She has just been informed by the angel that she is to be the Mother of God. She proclaims herself as His handmaiden. And when Elizabeth cries out: “How is it that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” she again replies with the deepest humility, praising God for all He has done for her, for looking upon her lowliness, for His mercy in fulfilling His promise to Israel.

And after this marvelous greeting from Elizabeth and Mary’s psalm-like response, the latter continued to show her great humility in staying with her cousin, the cousin who had felt unworthy that the Mother of her Lord should come, and serving her and tending her.

This humility is characteristic of her throughout the whole course of the Gospels. For the Son of God and His Mother a palace would have been more fitting; but she gave birth to Him in a stable and laid Him in a manger, for there was no room for them at the inn. When the shepherds came to adore, Mary kept it in her heart and pondered on it.

We have in the first part approached the issue of silence on the part of a princess from on angle; there is also silence as an imitation of our Mother to consider. The line from Proverbs – the wise store up knowledge – is most appropriate for Mary when we consider the Gospel accounts of her. Twice in the second chapter of Luke her silence is mentioned: first when the shepherds come adore her Son, which she ponders in her heart. Luke speaks of it again at the end of the chapter, after the finding of Jesus in the temple. His mother, says Luke, kept all these words in her heart.

Mary, in her great humility, falls silent and listens to God, keeping it all in her heart and pondering upon it.

At the wedding in Cana when the wine runs short Mary does not approach Him with demands or even requests. She merely tells Him the state of affairs: They have no wine. No more, except to instruct the waiters to do whatever He says.

That Mary, the Mother of God, should retain such a perfect and deep humility throughout the course of her life is truly indicative of her grace-filled soul. And it’s a virtue that we should reflect on often, and try to imitate in her.

For the Intro and Parts 1-8, click here.