There was a Princess long ago

Long ago, long ago

There was a Princess long ago

Long, long ago.

The Grade 1 class all sang the song about the legend of the Sleeping Beauty. They were gathered in a circle around a girl with blonde ringlets, who was lying down with her eyes closed on two chairs pushed together. She was the lucky one chosen to be the Sleeping Beauty and the chairs were her bed. 

The class was all singing except for one girl. She was looking at Miss Blonde-ringlets, envying her for having been chosen to be the Princess. When the song finished, she cried out to the teacher, "Why do you never pick me to be the Princess, Miss?" This outburst caused the rest of the class to look around in surprise.

"Well, Princesses don't fight with boys and they don't have short black hair," replied the insensitive teacher.

The girl's large, green eyes flashed angrily at this remark. She was going to answer back, but thought the better of it, since she had already made the teacher exasperated from sorting out the latest lunchtime fight. Fortunately, she didn't have to contain her anger long, as the school day was nearly over.

Most days after school, the girl attended a gymnastics or ballet class at the request of her guardian, Mr Anderson. She didn't mind this, as she enjoyed the classes and was very good at it. However, today was Thursday, her day off, so she walked home to her nearby house. She dawdled slightly, still being upset about the day's events. 

The girl had only been with her foster dad for four months. He had taken her out of the orphanage she had been in, and she now lived with him. She didn't know why he had done this, but she was much happier with him than at the orphanage.

Her foster dad had also fostered two other children, boys named Mark and Jason. The girl enjoyed the rough and tumble games she played with them. Living with him and her two brothers, one could almost imagine that it was like living in a real family.

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When the girl got home, she turned on the TV and sat down on the floor to watch "Sesame Street". Her brothers were already home. 

"Why don't you come and play some soccer with us?" asked Mark, his baby blues smiling.

"I don't feel like it," she replied.

"Well, it'd be better fun than watching baby shows," said Jason, scowling in disappointment.

Mr Anderson was standing nearby and overheard this exchange. "Why don't you go and play outside, Pet?" he queried.

"I don't want to," the girl said.

"Did something bad happened at school today?" he enquired. 

"Kind of."

"Want to talk about it?"

"OK Dad, as long as those two aren't there." 

Turning to Mark and Jason, Mr Anderson said, "Alright boys, can you go outside for a little while?"

Mark and Jason glanced at each other and walked outside. They were used to the family's newest addition wanting talks alone with their Dad. 

"What's the matter, Popsicle? Come and sit next to me on the couch," said Mr Anderson, rasing a finger to push back his spectacles. The girl got up, sat beside her foster father and explained what had happened when her class had sung the Sleeping Beauty song.

Mr Anderson laughed heartily at the story, offending the little girl. "Pet, don't get so upset about it. We can't always be chosen to be the Princess," he said. He often called her names like Pet and Popsicle, as he had a soft spot for the small, tough girl.

The girl then told her guardian about the fight that happened at lunchtime. This produced a lecture about not solving one's problems with violence. Though he was very careful not to show it, Mr Anderson in fact was not disapproving of his newest ward's tendency to get into scraps. "At least she'll make a good fighter when the time comes," he thought to himself. 

Mr Anderson then asked his ward, "Pet, are you still not answering to your name at school?"

"No I hate being named Agnes. I'm only called that anyway because the orphanage gave me that name," said the dark-haired girl. 

The girl had been in the orphanage from the age of three years, after her mother had died. Her mother had been a victim of one of the all too frequent Spectran mecha attacks. In the ensuring chaos, the girl had been separated from her mother, but survived the attack. 

Afterwards, for hours she had wandered the streets crying, until a kindly woman had taken pity on her and had brought her to an orphanage. Being only 3 years old, she could not identify herself to the satisfaction of the manager of the orphanage. Hence she had been assigned a new identity and given the name Agnes.

"Well," said Mr Anderson, "if you don't want to be called Agnes, you had better choose another name". He asked the girl, "Have you thought about what you would like your name to be?"

"Yes Dad," she replied. " I want to be called Princess". 

This choice of name caused an amused smile to form on Anderson's lips. "Very well. If you're sure about your new name, you will be know as Princess from now on".

Her foster brothers teased her a lot about her new name, as brothers will. "Thinks she's royalty," remarked Jason.

"Actually, it kind of suits you, because you're like a graceful princess with your ballet and gymnastics," Mark told her. 

The remark caused Princess to stick her tongue out at him. This action quickly became an excuse for a wrestling match with her brother. 

Despite the teasing her new name caused, it stuck, and she was called Princess from that time on.