I am the father of two young daughters who are now of an age in which playtime and imagination consist largely of princesses, princes, and other fairy things. The older child is also developing a sense of the happy ending, the resolution to the crisis encountered in the tale, the promised chaste kiss awakening to new life. It occurs to me that I may one day have to face these little ladies who will have developed the capacity to compare the reality of life to the constructions of fantasy. There is and will be, of course, as there always must be, a sharp disconnection between the happy ending of the world of romance and what is perceived to be the lack of such in day to day living. My task, of course, will be to address this seeming dichotomy. I’m not sure what I might say in that day to come. But if I’m attentive, it may sound something like this.
There are two sorts of happy endings: the happy endings of fairy tales and the happy endings of daily life. The former are the sorts of resolutions which human desire constructs; the latter what a merciful providence provides. The happy endings of fairy tales call forth in us the desire for communion. The happy endings of providence satisfy that desire for communion. The happy endings of fairy tales satisfy our expectations. The happy endings of providence transfigure our expectations. The happy endings of fairy tales reveal to us an unhappy truth: our lives are not fairy tales. The happy endings of providence reveal to us a most happy truth: our lives are not fairy tales.
There must be something in a little girl’s heart that causes her to yearn for that fairy tale happy ending. And her father, when he sees his daughter’s disappointment on realizing her fairy tale happy ending cannot come, has his heart broken a little bit, too. He, too, though he knows better, yearns for that happy ending for his little girl. But his is a different duty, a task he cannot shirk: he must take that sorrowful chin in his hand, and turn that tearful gaze of disappointment in another direction.
I am sorry that I cannot give you the happy ending that you want. I am sorry that I cannot change the circumstances which frame our lives. I am sorry that you must learn this hard truth: the happy endings we often want, or think we want, will never come. Still, Christ the Savior loves us, and if we pay attention, we can create a different story with him. Our story will have happy endings, but not the kind you find in fairy tales. These happy endings God gives us are much better, and richer, and last forever. I know you look around for a happy ending, and do not think you see one. But if you ask me, where is the happy ending? Dear one, there is only one answer to give to you: you are my happy ending.