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2008-03-27 - 1:48 p.m. Once Upon A Time Once upon a time, far, far away, there lived a gently aging princess in a greatly aging home, her home for a quarter of a century. Proud she was of its tall ceilings, majestic, although at times they leaked water from above, or spit down peels of lead paint all around her. Proud she was also of the dark comfort of the black marble fireplace, the curliques atop the door frames, the quiet charm of the garden she tended. The chirp of the birds of the morning and the deep purr of the mourning doves in the twilight hours enriched her life and she felt whole. There came a time when a mighty lord, filled with greed, declared her humble home under his reign, and desired her to leave, as her pittance allotted to him was meager and others would surely pay much more. He sent many trials her way - five score of floods, cold air and cold water during the winter deep, black mold that crawled up ceilings and walls until they groaned and crumbled, and, finally, from one floor that fell into the subterranean abyss, swarmed a plague of monsterous bugs. Others mocked her and questioned why she would stay, but the princess stood firm. All of this was just a shell. Her true home was in her soul, and if one looked they could see touches of her heart through the clouds of dust in every corner - a miniature chair over there in which to imagine a sweet rest, fine books of magnificent stories lining the walls and floors, and many journals and paintings that whispered - no shouted! - of her life. So she closed her eyes, breathed deeply, and smiled and had no fear, because of one thing she knew quite clearly. When she was gone, all this, this glimpse of her soul, would remain.