"Mommy, will you tell me a bedtime story? Daddy..." Yawn. "...daddy says it used to be a tradition back on Earth."

"Are you up to a bedtime story, sweetie? Your eyes are almost closed already, and your little brother's already asleep."

"Please..."

The woman smiled. Her little girl wouldn't remember anything, and would demand to be told the same story the next night, but it wouldn't take too much to make her happy. "Well, I can tell you a story about a magical kingdom, far, far away. Would you like that?"

"Yes!"

"Okay. There was a far-off kingdom which was full of magic. It had so much magic that the people who ruled it never needed to do anything. They had anything they wanted right at their fingertips."

"I wish we had that," the little girl said.

"Oh, you might not say that after you hear about it! Since all the people had whatever they wanted, they grew lazy. They never needed to do anything for themselves, you see. There were no challenges. They were bored. So they kept themselves entertained by watching other kingdoms, where there wasn't so much magic. And they made themselves invisible flying carpets, which they used to fly to all these other kingdoms and watch them and learn about them. They grew very arrogant, and thought they were better than the people in the other kingdoms. They never waged war on anyone, or attacked anyone, but they never used their great magic to stop wars or to help other people, either.

"But one day there arose in this kingdom a young prince. He was brash, and he wanted to learn all that he could learn, and there was a sparkle in his eye that no one else had. He learned about the magic, but his elders were never happy with him, because he would often walk far into the fields of the kingdom to experience things for himself. They branded him a troublemaker, someone who would never really amount to anything. But the prince was very, very smart."

To the woman's surprise, her daughter was now wide awake, fighting desperately to hear the story. She smiled and continued.

"And this prince grew restless. He knew he lived in a life of perfect comfort, where he could have whatever he wanted, but he wasn't happy. He wasn't happy because there were no challenges. He wasn't happy because he saw the other kingdoms which didn't have the magic that he had, and how they suffered because of it. He wasn't happy because he saw that the people who ruled his kingdom were lazy, and had grown spiteful of each other, because there wasn't anything to nurture their spirit.

"He went to his king and asked permission to leave the kingdom. The king denied him permission, saying that if he left, he would mix the magic of their kingdom with those of other kingdoms, and that was not to be permitted. The prince argued and argued but the king was very firm with him. He said no.

"So the prince was very sad. One day, while sitting on the great wall bordering his kingdom and looking out at all the other kingdoms, he finally decided that he needed to act. So he stole one of the flying carpets and he fled the protection of his kingdom to see what there was to see.

"And, oh, did he see things! He met all sorts of people, and he made many friends wherever he went. Occasionally, he befriended people so much that he allowed them to ride on his carpet with him. He met people who did not have magic, and who did not live in the comfort of a perfect world. These people were sometimes evil. But sometimes they were of good spirit and heart, because the challenges they faced brought out everything in them that was the best."

"And did he help them?"

"He certainly did. He flew in on his magic carpet, and he rolled up his sleeves, and he got his hands dirty. He met people, and he did things, and he sometimes used his magic to stop wars and to protect people who were vulnerable. But mostly, he inspired the people he met to find the magic inside themselves."

"Did he ever go back to his own kingdom?"

"I'll tell you that tomorrow night, sweetie."

"No! Tell me now! Please? I'll..." Yawn. "...never get to sleep if you don't."

"All right, you win. Yes, he went back to his own kingdom. He was caught by his own people, and they accused him of stealing a magic carpet. They brought him before the king, who was very angry!

"But the prince had learned much in his travels, and he had a spirit that his people didn't have. His knowledge was from experience. He had willingly faced the challenges that lie in store for all of us, instead of hiding from them inside a magical kingdom. So the king couldn't find it in his heart to punish the prince because he knew the prince had a power he couldn't quite understand. A power of the spirit. The king finally just let him go, and the prince is still out there today, flying on his magic carpet."

"Was the prince the only one who ever left the kingdom?" the little girl asked.

"No," the woman shook her head. "There were a few others who also stole flying carpets of their own. But they were evil! They didn't fly away for the same reasons that the prince did. They wanted to go out into other kingdoms and cause destruction, and use their powerful magic to take over other people's lives! Sometimes, the prince would meet these evil people from his own kingdom, but he always vanquished them."

"Always?" the little girl asked.

"Always," the woman whispered, stroking her hair.

The little girl yawned again. As her eyes fluttered closed, she asked, "Did you ever get to ride a magic carpet, mommy?"

The woman nodded. "Yes, I did. Long ago."

"Will you tell me that story?"

"Tomorrow night, sweetie." Bess leaned forward and kissed Amelia's brow. Then she stayed a few minutes to make sure her daughter was asleep before leaving the room.

As Amelia slept, she dreamed of the prince who magically appeared from distant lands, who might one day whisk her away on a flying carpet back to his kingdom. The dream fluttered through the metaphysical plane of the world on which she lived, into her thoughts, and into her spirit. It approached her as the thaw of last winter's mountain snow rolling softly over the rocks in the stream where she and her brother played, or as last autumn's leaves borne on a fresh spring wind, and sent her images that might, or might not, have happened....