A king and his son

The six-year-old prince walked uneasily to the great hall where his father awaited. Two guards opened the massive oak doors and the prince entered, certain he was about to suffer the king’s wrath. But it seemed on this particular day he had been spared.

From his throne, the king silently motioned for his son to approach. The prince moved forward slowly, his legs suddenly made of lead. He could feel his heart beat throughout his entire body and his tiny steps echoed like thunder in the great hall.

The prince stood in front of the great king and waited. Why had his father summoned him? What would he be criticized for now? The prince waited, determined to maintain his father’s unwavering eyes.

The king looked his son over and after an eternity spoke. His voice was soft and patient, and his words surprised the little prince.

"What is it you fear most?”

“I have no fear!” the prince shouted, slapping his chest, surprised by his own bravado. The king smiled.

“My son, do not be so foolish. Pride and arrogance will get you nowhere.”

The prince folded his arms over his chest and scowled. His father laughed and the prince felt the entire kingdom shake.

“Come now, sit with your father.”

The prince stepped onto the altar and did his best to climb his father’s long legs. His father reached down swiftly and perched him on his lap.

“Do you know what I fear most?” he whispered.

The prince shook his head in silence.

“That I leave this world without teaching you all that I can, so that one day you can rule with humility and wisdom.”

The prince studied his father, suddenly seeing every wrinkle, every gray hair, details he had never noticed before. In that moment he realized his greatest fear. It was the death of his father.

“But you still have many, many years as king,” the boy said swallowing his fear.

The king smiled wearily at his son.

“You have learned how to hide your fears well my son, but it is not the lesson I wish to bestow upon you. You have witnessed me ride into battle and return victorious and triumphant. You have witnessed the difficult decisions that I have made and my attempt to be fair and just with our people. But you have failed to see the fear in my face at times. Failed only because I did not show it to you. And that is my burden to bear.” The king sighed heavily and the tears that fell were quickly lost in his gray and white beard.

“There are some that would have you believe that fear makes you weak. I too once believed this. But that is no longer my credo, nor will it be that of my son. There is a dance you must learn; a dance that requires you to acknowledge your fear while not giving into it. This is where true strength and courage come from and you will not become a great leader until you master this dance. So my son, I ask you again. What is it you fear most?”

The boy’s eyes swelled with tears as he buried his face in his father’s chest and whispered “your death is what I fear most.”

The king held his son in his arms and spoke softly. “You need not fear my death for when I leave this place, I am never truly gone. I will forever remain a part of you. Every decision you make as king will be a reflection of me and my teachings. And in the blink of an eye, you and I shall be reunited once more."

The prince closed his eyes and fell asleep in the warmth and safety of his father's arms. When he awoke, he was king and had an heir of his own, a son he named Malek, in honor of his father.

"Malek, come sit with your father." The little prince climbed onto his father's lap. "A wise man once said that being a great king is about learning to dance."