Story

The Happy Prince

15 minAges 7-9

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The story

Introduction

High above the bustling city, stood a magnificent golden statue. It was the Happy Prince, sparkling and grand. But though he looked joyful, he often wept seeing all the sadness below. One chilly autumn night, a tiny, brave Swallow landed nearby, ready for a rest before his long journey to sunny Egypt. Little did he know, he was about to begin the most important adventure of his life, helping a kind prince share love and happiness with everyone. Join us for this heartwarming tale.

The Sad Statue and the Kind Swallow

So, the little Swallow, who was tired from his long flight, found a cosy spot between the Prince’s golden feet. He tucked his head under his wing, ready for a good night's sleep before heading to the warm sunshine of Egypt. But just as he was about to drift off, a large drop of water splashed right onto his little head! “What on earth?” he chirped, looking up. Another drop! And another! The Swallow looked all around. There were no clouds in the sky, and the stars were twinkling brightly. Where could this water be coming from? He fluttered up onto the Prince’s shoulder, and what do you think he saw? The Happy Prince’s eyes were filled with tears! Big, sparkly tears were rolling down his golden cheeks. “Who are you?” asked the surprised Swallow. “I am the Happy Prince,” came a gentle voice from the statue. “Then why are you crying?” wondered the little bird. “You’re called the Happy Prince!” “Ah, little Swallow,” sighed the Prince, “I may be called Happy, but I see all the sorrow and hardship in my city from up here. My heart is made of lead, and it aches for the people.”

The First Gift: The Ruby

“Ah, little Swallow,” sighed the Prince, “I may be called Happy, but I see all the sorrow in my city. My heart aches for the people. Look, over there. A poor seamstress is sewing, but her little boy is unwell and asks for oranges. She has no money for food or warmth.” The Swallow looked closely. “Oh dear,” he chirped. “He looks very poorly indeed.” “Little Swallow,” continued the Prince, “will you take the big, red ruby from my sword hilt to her?” The Swallow blinked. “But Prince, it's getting dreadfully cold! My friends are waiting for me in sunny Egypt!” “Please, little Swallow, just for one night,” begged the Prince, “Her boy is so ill, and a ruby could buy him food and medicine.” The Swallow, with a kind heart, couldn't say no. “Alright, Prince,” he chirped, “just for you.” So, the Swallow carefully pecked the sparkly, red ruby from the Prince's golden sword. It was a beautiful gem, shining like crimson jam! He held it gently in his beak and flew off into the chilly evening sky. He soared over the sleeping town until he found the little, dark house. Inside, the tired seamstress had fallen asleep, and her little boy was whimpering in his bed. The Swallow flew right in through the open window and placed the huge, red ruby next to her thimble. Then, he fluttered gently over the boy's head, fanning him with his soft wings. “Oh, that feels lovely and cool!” murmured the boy. He closed his eyes and fell into a peaceful sleep. The Swallow then flew back to the Happy Prince, feeling a little bit warmer and happier himself. “I have done it, Prince!” he announced proudly. “The ruby is with the seamstress, and her boy is sleeping.”

The Sapphire Eyes and a New Friend

The little Swallow fluttered back to the Happy Prince, feeling a funny, warm glow inside his tiny chest. “I have done it, Prince!” he chirped, puffing out his feathers a little. “The ruby is with the seamstress, and her boy is sleeping peacefully. He was so, so warm!” The Happy Prince smiled, a gentle, kind smile that made the Swallow feel even better. “That is wonderful, my little friend,” he said, his voice like a soft chime. “You have brought joy to a weary heart.” But as the Prince looked out over the city, his smile faded a little. “Look, little Swallow,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on a distant attic window. “Over there, in that tiny room, lives a young playwright.” The Swallow peered through the dusky light. “A playwright, Prince? What’s wrong with him?” “He is very, very cold and hungry,” explained the Prince. “He is trying to finish a play for the Theatre Director, but he is too cold to write. There is no fire in his grate, and he has no money to buy wood. He is fainting from hunger, and he has a fever.” “If he cannot finish his play, he will not earn any money, and he will be even hungrier.” The Prince continued, “My eyes are made of beautiful, rare sapphires. Each one is as blue as the deepest ocean and worth a fortune.” The Swallow gasped. “Take one of my sapphire eyes,” the Prince instructed. “Fly it to the playwright. He can sell it to the jeweller, buy wood for his fire, and food to eat, and finish his play.” The Swallow’s little heart fluttered with shock. “Oh, dear Prince!” he cried. “You cannot ask me to do that! If I take one of your eyes, you will be blind! You will not be able to see the beautiful city anymore, nor the sad faces of the people!” The Happy Prince shook his head gently. “Little Swallow, you must do as I ask,” he said. “The suffering of others is a greater sadness than any blindness I might endure. Please, go.” The Swallow looked at the Prince’s kind, pleading face, and his resolve began to melt. How could he refuse such a kind, generous heart? Even though it hurt his own little birdy heart to think of the Prince not being able to see. “Very well, Prince,” he chirped, a lump in his throat. “For you, I will do it.” So, the Swallow carefully pecked out one of the Prince’s sparkling sapphire eyes. It was incredibly heavy for such a small bird, but he held it gently in his beak. He flew up, up, over the sleeping town, past the tall clock tower, and over the bustling market square, which was now quiet and dark. He found the little attic window, just as the Prince had described. Inside, the young playwright sat hunched over his desk, his head in his hands, shivering. His quill lay unused, and a pile of crumpled papers lay beside him. He looked so very sad and lonely. The Swallow flew quietly into the room and gently placed the large, blue sapphire right on top of the playwright’s messy notes. Then, he flew out as silently as he had come in. A few moments later, the playwright stirred. He looked up, and his eyes widened. “Why, what’s this?” he mumbled, picking up the glistening stone. “A magnificent sapphire! This must be a gift from some admirer! Now I can finish my play!” His face lit up with hope and joy. He could buy warmth and food, and his words would flow once more. The Swallow flew back to the Happy Prince, his little wings beating hard. “I have done it, Prince!” he called out. “The young man is so happy! He has hope in his eyes again!” But the Prince’s face was now a little sadder, with only one glittering sapphire eye left. “Thank you, brave Swallow,” he said. “You have a good heart.” He paused again, then looked out over the town with his one remaining eye. “Down in the square,” he began, his voice tinged with sorrow, “I see a little match-girl. Her matches have all fallen into the gutter, and they are ruined. Her father will beat her if she doesn’t bring home any money, and she is crying bitterly. She has no shoes or stockings, and her little head is bare.” The Swallow looked at the little girl, shivering and weeping in the cold, dark street. “Oh, Prince,” he whispered. “Must you give away your other eye too?” “Yes, little Swallow,” the Prince replied. “You must take my other eye to her. She needs it more than I.” But the Swallow loved the Happy Prince very much now. He had become his friend. “I cannot do it, Prince!” he cried. “If you lose both your eyes, you will be completely blind! I will stay with you forever, my dear friend, and tell you stories of what I see in the world!”

Golden Leaves and a Brave Little Bird

And so, the brave little Swallow snuggled down by the Happy Prince’s feet, promising to stay forever. The Prince, even without his sapphire eyes, could feel the loyal warmth of his tiny friend. He knew what he must ask next. “Dear little Swallow,” the Prince whispered, “I am covered all over with beautiful pure gold leaves. It is the finest gold in the world, you see. Please, my little friend, take off these golden leaves, one by one, and carry them to the poor children who are cold and hungry. They will be so happy.” The Swallow looked up at the Prince, his little beak tilting. “Oh, Prince,” he chirped, “you are giving away everything, aren't you?” But he didn't hesitate. He knew the Prince's heart was full of kindness. So, the little Swallow began his new task. He gently pecked at the first golden leaf, a shimmery, sun-bright piece, and carefully pulled it free. Then, he flew off into the city, holding the golden treasure in his beak. He saw a little boy sitting on the pavement, his clothes thin and ragged. The boy was shivering, trying to warm his bare hands with his breath. His tummy rumbled, and he looked very sad. The Swallow swooped down, ever so carefully, and dropped the golden leaf right into the boy’s lap. “Oh!” gasped the little boy, his eyes wide. He’d never seen anything so shiny and beautiful! He ran home, and his mummy used the gold to buy him a warm blanket and a nice hot pie. His face was beaming! The next day, the Swallow plucked another golden leaf. This time, he flew it to a little girl who was trying to sell matches in the cold. Her little fingers were blue, and she hadn’t sold a single match all day. She was so very sad because she knew she would have no supper. The Swallow dropped the gold into her open palm. The little girl stared at the shimmering gold. It felt warm and lovely in her hand. She quickly ran to the baker’s shop and bought a big, crusty loaf of bread. Her tummy didn’t rumble anymore! And she even shared a bit with a stray dog who looked just as hungry as she had been. Day after day, the little Swallow flew back and forth, from the golden Prince to the cold streets of the city. He plucked off leaf after leaf of gold, each one a tiny act of love. He took one to a tiny baby sleeping on a bed of straw, whose mummy cried because she couldn’t keep her warm. He took another to a group of children huddled together in an alleyway, their faces streaked with dirt, their eyes longing for something to eat. With each golden leaf he delivered, a little more warmth, a little more food, and a lot more happiness spread through the city. The children, who had been so cold and hungry, now had warm clothes and bellies full of lovely food. Their laughter echoed in the streets, and their smiles were as bright as the golden leaves themselves. But as the days passed, something else was changing in the city. The crisp, sunny days of autumn began to fade. The real leaves on the trees, the ones that weren't made of gold, started to turn beautiful shades of red and orange and yellow. Then, one by one, they drifted down from the branches, dancing in the wind before settling on the ground. The air grew much colder. A sharp, frosty breeze began to blow through the streets, whistling around the corners of the buildings. The little Swallow, who was used to the warm sunshine of Egypt, started to feel very, very chilly. He shivered as he flew, his small body growing weaker. “Oh, Prince,” he chirped, his voice a little softer now, “it is getting so cold. My little wings feel heavy, and my feet are numb.” The Happy Prince, standing high above the city, even without his eyes, could feel the biting wind and sense his friend's struggle. “Dear little Swallow,” he said, “you must fly away to Egypt now! It is too cold for you here. You have done so much good, my friend. Please, go and be warm.” But the Swallow shook his head. “No, Prince! I told you I would stay with you, and I always keep my promises.” He took a deep breath, puffed out his little chest, and went to pluck another golden leaf. He continued his work, but it was getting harder and harder. His feathers were ruffled by the icy wind, and his movements became slower. He could barely fly, stopping often to rest on rooftops, trying to gather enough strength to reach another poor child. Finally, the very last golden leaf was plucked from the Prince’s body. The Happy Prince, who had once gleamed with gold and jewels, now stood dull and grey, covered only in the lead that made up his heart. But his heart, oh, it was still full of love. The Swallow returned to the Prince’s feet, shivering violently. He knew his time was nearly up. “Goodbye, dear Prince,” he whispered, his voice barely a squeak. “Will you let me kiss your hand?” The Prince was so sad. “I am glad you are going to Egypt at last, little Swallow,” he said, trying to sound brave, “You have stayed too long. But you must kiss my lips, for I love you very much.” “It is not to Egypt that I am going,” the little Swallow said, “I am going to the House of Death. Death is the brother of Sleep, isn't he?” And with one last, tiny effort, the brave little Swallow flew up to the Prince's lips and gave him a gentle, loving kiss. Then, he fluttered down, and fell lifeless at the Prince's feet. Just at that very moment, a strange thing happened inside the statue. The lead heart of the Happy Prince, which was already full of love and kindness, suddenly snapped right in two! Crack! It made a sound like a tiny bell, but only the Prince could 'hear' it in his silent way. He felt a deep, deep sadness, but also a quiet pride for his brave little friend. The city, however, would soon wake up to a strange new day, unaware of the brave little bird who had just given his last breath to help those in need.

Outro

And so ends our tale of 'The Happy Prince'. Thank you for joining us on this very special adventure. We hope you enjoyed hearing about the brave swallow and the kind prince. Perhaps you can imagine your own stories about helping others, or what adventures they might have had next! Do let Sonacasts know if you have any feedback or your favourite part of the story. Until next time, keep dreaming big and being kind, little stars!