He was so different from the other boys in the school. He was always kind, helpful, willing, cheerful. When there was any rough play, or a fight, or any dishonesty, you could be sure he was not in it. Why was he so different? His teacher determined to find out. One day after school she called him to her desk.

After thanking him for his helpfulness and unfailing willingness, she said, “You must have a good mother. Won’t you take me to see her someday?”

“I’m afraid I can’t,” he replied. “I have no mother.”

“I’m sorry,” apologized the teacher. “Take me to see you father, then.”

“I have no father, either,” said the little fellow. “I’m living with kind friends. If I tell you my story, you’ll promise not to let the other boys know?” He queried.

“Why, of course, if you would rather I didn’t.”

Then he told the teacher of a little French school he once attended in Eastern Europe, how invading armies ravished his homeland, and how his mother and father, a prince and princess, had be led away from their stately home to the place of execution. Just before they parted, his father had said to him, “Remember, dear boy, wherever you may go, that you are the son of royalty. Never stoop to anything unworthy of your high rank.” The boy’s tears flowed freely. The teacher laid a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

Now she understood. Though he might mingle with all types of boys on the playground, some rough and uncouth, he always remembered his father’s last words. He was a prince! Though you and I are not members of a royal family in that sense, we are all sons and daughters of the King of kings.

By Edgar A. Warren, Signs of the Times, March 1964. With permission from Dale E. Galusha Pacific Press Ministries dalgal@pacificpress.com