From Dust to Diamonds

When the King of Spain sought a bride, he searched the land for the most beautiful woman in the known world. The jewel to place upon his illustrious crown. He finally chose Islabel, whose beauty could not be described in words of such ugly and indecent caliber. For many years men had pursued the young farmer’s daughter only to be rejected with such force that many remained single for years to come. It was the ultimate puzzle. Her beauty unmatched yet her hand unrequested.

He summoned her to his court in Madrid. As she entered the jewels paled and gold lost its luster. Her simple smock shone like the most magnificent evening gown. The King sat awed by her splendor afraid he legs would give out when he stood to greet her. She curtsied once with little gusto. Rather than being offended, he was enrapted by the grace in which she completed the simple procedure. He rose carfully clutching his chair as if it was a life support.

“Welcome, my most glorious bride.” His voice boomed and echoed in the marble hall. She looked up to him.

“Bride? I would have never come if I would have known I was to be your bride.” She scowled deeply, with an emotion that magnified her perfect features with the light of personality.

“Are you saying that you decline my prestigious offer?”

“Yes” She stated emphatically.

“Why?” he asked with a growing annoyance but no less love.

“You chose me for my beauty. Not mind or talent, but a flawless complexion. Your desire is based on lust. You want to own me, parade me, shower me in your opulence. I am not worthy of such a fine treatment.”

“Oh, but my dear you are…”

“No” She interrupted him without a second’s hesitation. “I am a lump of coal, nothing more nothing less. A mass of unfriendly, unmagnificent ore that covers the floor with soot and scum. It is only in your eye, blinded by greed and masculine desire, that changes me. You make me a diamond. Clear, perfect, and full of light. The brilliance you see is only the brilliance you wish to see. When you no longer crave the fresh, I will no longer tempt your Christian values. And finally I can rest my girlish head and enjoy the wonders of true life.”

The King sat despondent. Her words were so beautiful and enchanting but he no longer craved her companionship. She was dwarfed by the grandeur of the hall. He looked down on his septor. It was freshly polished for the occasion, yet on the lead stone sat a speck of dust. It was tiny, insignificant, but appeared to devalue the entire piece. Islabel left the room slowly. Her cheap muslin skirts rustled loudly and wrinkled as she walked. The King called in his minister and cancelled the bridal search, and promptly forgot the headstrong, young maiden.