When she was very young, the maiden dwelt in the Lowlands, in the Kingdom of Unhappiness, under the dictates of the mad ruler, Desire. This troubled country was bounded on the north by theicy caves of Selfishness, on the east by every veering wind of Emotion, on the south by the unpredictable volcano of Anger and Temper, and on the west by the swamp of Doubt where hung the chilling fog of many Fears. Here she lived, subject to the whim of Desire, prisoner to Terror, and aggravated by Pests of Little Things until she knew not whither she was going.

  And always there was the great, voracious vulture of Jealousy to torture her. Occasionally, her grandmother came down from the high mountains of Wisdom to visit her, being besought of her gentle pity to rescue the fair maiden out of her sad plight. But always her words of how to escape from this unhappy land fell on deaf ears, and she would go back to the great, winging spaces without accomplishing a thing. The young soul was attached to the Kingdom of Unhappiness and quite fixed in slavery to her Fears. In fact, she felt the need of these things-—for how else could she dramatize her drab and uninteresting inner self?

  The maiden’s mother, from the Land of the Shining Place, watched her, caught in this giant web, and went to the Tall Ones, who dwelt in the stars, for advice. But the Tall Ones said, “Patience! The day draws near for her deliverance.” So the mother held her peace, and waited.

  Then on a Day of Feasting, at the hour of high noon when the sated inhabitants of the Kingdom of Unhappiness had eaten their fill and lay at ease-—there came an earthquake. The great stone steeple tumbled down; the palace was engulfed; the Lords of Desire and Greed ran madly hither and yon to escape the flames. But in vain. Jealousy was swallowed up in the awful holocaust at the very feet of the maiden, fleeing for her life in the midst of a once proud city.

  The Pests of Little Things scudded ahead of her like bats caught in a great wind. She hurried to catch up with them. Their familiar forms, their very pricks and irritations, were comforting in the midst of this terrifying strangeness. But they too vanished in the maw of the heaving earth.

  She looked to the north where stood the icy caves of Selfishness to seek shelter therein. But the pursuing fire overwhelmed their glittering depths with one hissing breath, and melted them in the twinkling of an eye. She stood helpless and watched the Cold waters rush toward the city gates, beyond which could be heard the crackle of doom.

  Then, far to the south, she heard the awful eruption of the volcano, Anger, and she knew that retreat in that direction was cut off. She moved eastward toward the moods of Indecision, but could see nothing in the midst of that whirlpool of emotion which had been made ten times more confusing by the shock of the earthquake. So she sorrowfully circled about, picking her way blindly through the fallen wreckage and smouldering resentments that clutched at her with their flaring sparks, as she passed.

  At last she stood on the edge of the Swamp of Doubt and peered into the livid fog of many fears. Her feet were braised, her gown torn, her fair face streaked with dirt and tears. Desire would never claim her now; Jealousy would surely pass her by. She looked on the weaving shapes of the chilling fog, and lo! it, too, now met the purifying heat of the fire. Even as she gazed, it shifted, enveloped her in a sudden last Dream which shook her to the core of her being...and was gone.

  There lay the swamp of doubt, quagmired with Uncertainty and Delusion. She cringed from the stagnant pools that lay between the black patches of dead grass ahead, but hot tongues of Awakening Fire drove her forward. On she stumbled, blinded by the smoke and overcome by Terror, who had survived the catastrophe to be with her. The way was clammy with many Dreads, and she fell often, always chained to the horrid figure of Terror...and there was no one to help her.

  Finally she reached an island, so far from any other land that she knew she was lost. Before she could save herself, she had slipped into the black waters where dwelt unmentionable evils. Terror was dragging her down, and she began to fight back. With weak and trembling fingers she loosed the chain and in desperation threw Terror from her.

  Then her body became light. It floated to the top of the water, and she called, “Help me!” Instantly the swamp vanished, and she found herself on a grassy knoll in the midst of sweet-smelling ferns. There stood a noble Prince looking at her, his kind blue eyes filled with wisdom. “Be still, Fair Maiden,” he said, “and rest. I will watch over you. Rest.”

  Sensing his wisdom and kindly strength, she lay down upon the soft grasses, and great peace like a warm cloak fell over her. She slept...and dreamed.

  There came in her dream the Lady Renewal, with her beautiful sister, Healing, who treated her bruises and her hurts with delicious ointments and salves most wonderful. They removed her tattered gown and robed her in lustrous Power, placing shoes of Understanding upon her feet, a blue girdle of Humility about her waist.

  She lay, after their soft-winged departure, in a deep stillness, and the stillness was strong within her, like the silent growing of ancient trees. It soothed her like a blessing, and she was part of the growing—-one with the vast stillness.

  Then she rose from her sleep like an angel of light, placed her hand in the strong hand of her Higher Self, and walked toward the high hills. Behind her lay the night mists of Unhappiness; above her gleamed the first gold of dawn on the Castle of Joy. Love walked beside her and Peace had taken abode in her heart. Soon, soon, she would reach the Gates of Wisdom where dwelt her grandmother.

  And in the Shining Place beyond, her mother smiled.

  —Marguerite A. Wing