For You At Last, Sleeping Beauty

Of all the fairy tale princesses, I can relate to and appreciate Sleeping Beauty most of all. She couldn’t go to a ball and catch the attention of a man, like Cinderella did. She didn’t have any dwarfs to help her out, like Snow White. She could only wait.

The thing about Sleeping Beauty is, she had to wait 100 years for her prince to show up. And okay, while she was waiting all that time she was taking a snooze. But we have to consider, that maybe, just maybe, those 100 years of sleep were not full of pleasant dreams and complete REM cycles, but nightmares instead. Nightmares of being alone forever, nightmares of being forgotten, nightmares of never seeing the sun shine again. So maybe the 100 year old wait wasn’t all that plush.

In movies or books, we might think of Briar Rose’s castle as being draped with lovely flowers and spiraling tendrils of plants. Perhaps it had thick, ancient trees and was like some sort of secret garden, with overgrowth on its stone walls. My heavens, I bet it wasn’t! Do you know what it looks like when you haven’t weeded for five weeks? Do you know how quickly dandelions spread? Have you ever tried to eradicate thorn bushes from your backyard? I mean, while Sleeping Beauty was slumbering (along with all the court), everything was going to hell. The gophers were probably making tunnels everywhere under the perfect lawn, and Scotch Broom was growing in the driveway.

I am completely amazed that the prince even stopped by. I mean, have you ever seen an abandoned house or a foreclosed upon property? The overgrown yard is enough to frighten even a nature-loving hippie from Eugene, Oregon away. And here is a king’s son, poking his nose about, looking for a wife. I sort of wonder if maybe he owned a yard maintenance company and was looking for new clients.

Let’s just think about this, though. The prince went to the messiest, least cared for place, the place where trees had gnarled and thorns had overtaken. He went to that place, looking for something beautiful. He had heard of what was within, and he cut through all of the messy, prickly, tangled stuff to get there. I can only pray that I’ll have a prince like that—someone willing to cut through all of the thistles and the messy, pokey stuff to find me inside.

That briar patch was fierce

Maybe the biggest question about Sleeping Beauty’s story is this: where the hell was the prince all that time? What did he have to do that was so important it took him 100 years to get there? I don’t even know. I wish I did. I’m guessing that the timing wasn’t right. Like, maybe he wasn’t even born yet. Which raises a set of completely separate issues, like was Sleeping Beauty 115 and her husband was only 25 or something? Isn’t that robbing the cradle? And did she get botox or what?

Regardless of what the prince was doing in the meantime, what’s important is that he got there. What matters to me is that he gets here.

Briar Rose had waited since her 15^th birthday, ever since that spindle pricked her finger. I totally feel for that girl. I know what waiting is like. She lay there, unable to do anything to help the situation; God knows having what sorts of nightmares in her sleep. She waited 100 years for true love’s first kiss. And then he came. I can envision the princess waking up. Her eyelids flutter open. I can hear the reassuring voice of the king’s son.

“I’m here for you at last, Sleeping Beauty.”

link to Sleeping Beauty, story by the Brothers Grimm