In the heart of the kingdom stood the ancient Cathedral of the Holy Crystal Church, its towers and walls gleaming even in the darkness. The kingdom had long been blessed with rich mines of crystal, clear and strong as frozen starlight, and it was said that in days of old an angel of the Lord had descended to aid the people against a terrible evil dragon that had plagued the land. When the dragon was slain, the angel’s own blood had fallen upon the earth and hardened into the first crystals. Ever since, the people had quarried them with reverence, and the great cathedral itself was built chiefly of these shining stones, so that it seemed not made by human hands but grown from Heaven’s own mercy. Light passing through its walls and windows broke into rainbows that danced upon the floor like living prayers.
The little prince came to this place late that night, when the city slept and the stars shone cold overhead. He slipped through the great doors and sat down upon a stone bench in a side chapel, far from the high altar. The vast building enfolded him in solemn silence, the crystals around him faintly glowing with their own inner light. For a long time he remained there, head bowed and the crystal vial held tightly in his hands. The mockery of his kin and the greed of both poor and rich lay heavy upon his spirit. He felt small and very much alone.
While he sat thus, lost in weariness and doubt, another man stirred in the bishop’s house beside the cathedral. The Bishop of the Holy Crystal Church was an old man, well past sixty, with a face lined by years of prayer and labour. He was strict in his discipline, yet his heart overflowed with a deep and quiet compassion for all souls. That night, as he slept, a vision came to him. He saw the same angel who had once bled for the kingdom, shining with heavenly light, and in the angel’s hand was a crystal vial glowing like a star. A voice spoke clearly: “Go to the one who has received this gift. He sits even now within My house, seeking guidance.”
The Bishop woke with his heart pounding. Without delay he rose, dressed, and made his way into the darkened cathedral. There, guided by some inward certainty, he found the little prince sitting alone in the chapel, the small vial resting in his lap and catching the faint rainbow light of the crystal walls.
“My son,” said the Bishop gently, laying a hand upon the boy’s shoulder, “why do you sit here in the watches of the night, beneath the stones that remember the angel’s blood?”
The little prince looked up, startled at first, and then the whole story poured forth from him. He told of the beggar beneath the bridge, of the angel’s appearing, of the terrible warning concerning the plague to come because of mankind’s selfishness, cruelty, and debauchery, and of the crystal vial with all its conditions and its power. He spoke of his failure with his own family, of the suspicion of the poor, and of the blind revelry of the nobles. As he spoke, his voice trembled, for he had carried these things alone for too long.
The Bishop listened without interruption, his eyes fixed upon the boy’s face and upon the vial. When the tale was finished, the old man took the crystal vial into his own hands and gazed upon it for a long time. Tears came into his eyes, not of sorrow only, but of awe and holy joy.
“This is no dream of your own making,” he said at last, his voice deep with feeling. “I too have seen the angel this very night, the same who once gave His blood for our people that crystals might grow in this land. God has not forsaken us utterly. In the midst of our great wickedness He has sent this last mercy through you, the least regarded of the King’s sons. It is indeed His final gift before judgment falls. The Holy Crystal Church will stand with you.”
The Bishop’s hands trembled as he returned the vial. “I will help you, my son, with all the strength that remains to me and with all the authority entrusted to this house built from angel’s blood. We shall not hide this light under a bushel.”
The little prince felt something break open within his breast. For the first time since the angel had appeared, he was truly believed. A warmth spread through him that was deeper than any he had known since that snowy night under the bridge. At last, he thought, here is one who understands. Someone truly believes me. Perhaps God has not altogether given up on mankind after all.
“Beginning tomorrow,” the Bishop declared, “after the daily Mass, the people shall be invited to receive this mercy. You shall stand beside me at the altar, and offer the vial to any who will drink in faith and repentance. The Holy Crystal Church will bear witness that this is no trick of man, but a true work of Heaven, born from the same mercy that once saved our fathers from the dragon.”
Thus a partnership was sealed between the little prince and the Bishop of the Holy Crystal Church. In that ancient house of crystal and prayer, a small but living flame of hope was kindled that night, one that would soon shine more brightly before the darkness gathered to quench it.12Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfaEUbkWDsL
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