A Little Princess

A Little Princess

When Sara Crewe arrived in London from India, she was seven years old. Her father, Captain Crewe, loved his daughter dearly and wanted her to be educated at a good boarding school. That was how Sara came to Miss Minchin’s school, run by a stern woman who knew how to be especially polite to wealthy people.

Sara truly had everything the other pupils might dream of: beautiful clothes, books, a room of her own, and a doll named Emily, whom she almost believed to be alive. But more than possessions, Sara loved stories. She could look at an old wardrobe and imagine a door to a palace hidden behind it, or turn rain against the window into the beginning of an extraordinary journey.

She quickly became friends with Ermengarde, who found lessons difficult, and little Lottie, who cried often. Sara never laughed at anyone for failing at something. She also noticed Becky, the thin little servant girl who worked from morning until night and sometimes fell asleep sitting up from sheer exhaustion.

“Come in whenever you can,” Sara told her quietly. “I’ll tell you stories.”

Becky could hardly believe that a wealthy pupil was speaking to her as an equal.

Sara had one favorite game. She imagined that she was a princess. Not the sort who wore a crown and ordered people about, but the sort who had to remain gracious even when no one was watching.

“If I am truly a princess inside,” she would think, “then I must be kind not only when kindness is easy.”

On Sara’s eleventh birthday, the school prepared a splendid celebration. But that very day, a solicitor arrived with terrible news for Miss Minchin. Captain Crewe had died in India after an illness. Before his death, he had invested nearly all his money in a diamond-mine venture that appeared to have failed. It seemed that nothing remained of his great fortune.

Sara’s world changed within minutes. Miss Minchin, who that morning had called her the finest pupil in the school, suddenly became cold.

“You can no longer live here as a young lady,” she said. “If you wish to stay, you will work for your food and a roof over your head.”

Sara was moved to a cold attic beside Becky’s little room. Her beautiful clothes were taken away and her lessons stopped. From then on, she lit fires, ran errands through the city, helped the younger pupils, and often went to bed hungry.

Now her game became a real test.

When Miss Minchin scolded her unfairly, Sara clenched her hands and thought, “A princess does not become rude simply because someone is rude to her.” When the room was cold, she and Becky imagined that their attic was the room of two travelers waiting out a snowstorm. When there was no supper, they described imaginary feasts to one another in such detail that sometimes they even laughed.

One rainy day, Sara found a coin in the street. She was terribly hungry and bought several hot buns at a bakery. But outside the door sat a child who was even hungrier. Sara stopped, looked at the buns, and then gave the girl nearly all of them, keeping only one for herself.

The baker saw what happened and remembered for a long time the thin girl in wet, worn clothes.

Meanwhile, a sick man named Mr. Carrisford had moved into the house next door. He had spent many years in India and returned to England carrying a heavy sense of guilt. He had once been Captain Crewe’s friend and had persuaded him to invest in the diamond mines. In the end, the venture had proved successful, and Captain Crewe’s share had become a large fortune. But when Mr. Carrisford tried to find his dead friend’s daughter, Sara’s trail had disappeared.

He had no idea that the child he was searching for lived literally on the other side of the wall.

One day Mr. Carrisford’s servant, Ram Dass, saw Sara through the attic window. His tame monkey climbed across the roof to the girl, and Sara gently returned the animal to its owner. Ram Dass noticed the cold, almost empty room and told Mr. Carrisford about it.

He still did not know who the girl was, but he wanted to help her.

One evening Sara returned from an errand and stopped in amazement at the doorway. A fire burned in the grate. Supper stood on the table. A warm blanket lay on the bed, and books and a small lamp had appeared beside the wall.

“Becky!” she whispered. “Either we have both fallen asleep, or someone has decided to turn our make-believe into reality.”

After that, mysterious gifts appeared several more times. Sara called the unknown benefactor a magician.

One day the monkey escaped again and found his way to Sara. The next morning, she carried him to the neighboring house herself. Mr. Carrisford began asking Sara about India, about her father, and about her school. Every answer surprised him more.

When he heard Captain Crewe’s name, he went pale.

At last the truth became clear: the girl he had searched for all across Europe had been living next door all this time.

“Sara,” he said, barely able to contain his emotion, “your father did not lose everything. The diamond mines made a great profit. Part of that fortune belongs to you. I have been searching for you so I could return what is yours.”

Sara was silent for a few seconds. She was not thinking about dresses or carriages.

“Can Becky stay with me?” was the first thing she asked.

And so Becky no longer had to work herself to exhaustion at the boarding school, and Sara left Miss Minchin. Beautiful clothes were bought for her again, but now they seemed less important than before. She already knew that wealth could disappear in a single day, while human dignity did not depend on what a person was wearing.

Before long, Sara remembered the hungry girl outside the bakery. She returned there with Mr. Carrisford and offered the baker a simple arrangement: whenever a hungry child came to the door, the child should be given bread or a bun, and the bill could be sent to Sara.

The baker recognized her at once.

“I have often thought of you, miss,” she said. “That day you were hungry yourself, and yet you still shared what you had.”

Sara smiled.

Once, she had imagined herself a princess so that she would remember to be kind. Now she understood that a true princess is not defined by her room, her dress, or the amount of money she owns. You can recognize her by the way she treats someone weaker when no one is forcing her to be kind.

Once, she had imagined herself a princess so that she would remember to be kind. Now she understood that a true princess is not defined by her room, her dress, or the amount of money she owns. You can recognize her by the way she treats someone weaker when no one is forcing her to be kind.