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My friend
Kenny and his
family had
just returned
from Disney
World. “I saw
a sight I’ll
never forget,”
he said. “I
want you to
know about
it.”
He and his
family were
inside
Cinderella’s
castle. It was
packed with
kids and
parents.
Suddenly all
the children
rushed to one
side. Had it
been a boat,
the castle
would have
tipped over.
Cinderella had
entered.
Cinderella.
The pristine
princess.
Kenny said she
was perfectly
typecast. A
gorgeous young
girl with each
hair in place,
flawless skin,
and a beaming
smile. She
stood
waist-deep in
a garden of
kids, each
wanting to
touch and be
touched.
For some
reason Kenny
turned and
looked toward
the other side
of the castle.
It was now
vacant except
for a boy
maybe seven or
eight years
old. His age
was hard to
determine
because of the
disfigurement
of his body.
Dwarfed in
height, face
deformed, he
stood watching
quietly and
wistfully,
holding the
hand of an
older brother.
Don’t you know
what he
wanted? He
wanted to be
with the
children. He
longed to be
in the middle
of the kids
reaching for
Cinderella,
calling her
name. But
can’t you feel
his fear, fear
of yet another
rejection?
Fear of being
taunted again,
mocked again?
Don’t you wish
Cinderella
would go to
him? Guess
what? She did!
She noticed
the little
boy. She
immediately
began walking
in his
direction.
Politely but
firmly inching
through the
crowd of
children, she
finally broke
free. She
walked quickly
across the
floor, knelt
at eye level
with the
stunned little
boy, and
placed a kiss
on his face.
“I thought you
would
appreciate the
story,” Kenny
told me. I
did. It
reminded me of
the one you
and I have
been studying.
The names are
different, but
isn’t the
story almost
the same?
Rather than a
princess of
Disney, we’ve
been
considering
the Prince of
Peace. Rather
than a boy in
a castle,
we’ve looked
at a thief on
a cross. In
both cases a
gift was
given. In both
cases love was
shared. In
both cases the
lovely one
performed a
gesture beyond
words.
But Jesus did
more than
Cinderella.
Oh, so much
more.
Cinderella
gave only a
kiss. When she
stood to
leave, she
took her
beauty with
her. The boy
was still
deformed. What
if Cinderella
had done what
Jesus did?
What if she’d
assumed his
state? What if
she had
somehow given
him her beauty
and taken on
his
disfigurement?
That’s what
Jesus did.
“He took our
suffering on
him and felt
our pain for
us.… He was
wounded for
the wrong we
did; he was
crushed for
the evil we
did. The
punishment,
which made us
well, was
given to him,
and we are
healed because
of his wounds”
(Isa. 53:4–5).
Make no
mistake: Jesus
gave more than
a kiss—he gave
his beauty. He
paid more than
a visit—he
paid for our
mistakes. He
took more than
a minute—he
took away our
sin.
By Max lucado
If you don't
know God and
would like to
learn how to
begin a
personal
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