The Frog Princess

As retold and embellished by Royce A Ratterman

     or so it seems . . .

. . . there lived, in an enchanted forest near the edge of time, a frog princess. Not just any ordinary frog princess, mind you, but a very intelligent and beautiful frog princess, to say the least!


Centuries before, how long exactly no one really knows because frog princesses do not usually maintain very accurate calendars in enchanted forests, a very wicked queen cast a spell upon a pretty, young princess who was to marry a very handsome and powerful king.

The queen was afraid this king, who was very nice and did not like evil people to be kings or queens, would gain control of her kingdom when all of her subjects saw how sweet and nice he and his new bride were in the neighboring kingdom, so . . .




. . . she cast an evil spell upon the lovely princess, turning her into a frog and placing her in the enchanted forest near the edge of time.





The wicked queen knew that the nice king would spend his whole life searching for his true love and would thus never bother her again for the rest of her queenly reign. And she was correct!


Well . . . the centuries pasted by slowly, slowly at least for a frog all alone in an enchanted forest with no one to talk to or play with.

But, as things are and as things happen . . .

The whole world was filling up with people who were traveling and building homes, businesses and their happy lives almost everywhere there was to build these things.

People were actually living just outside of the enchanted forest itself.
. . . and our little frog princess did not even know they were there.

Then, one fateful day . . .
a very old man, eighty-seven years old to be exact, went for a walk. He found an old dried up stream bed to use for a trail. The stream bed went right through the middle of the enchanted forest!

As the old man continued down the stream bed he drew closer and closer to where the little frog princess was enjoying the smell of the enchanted forest from under the roots of a large tree.

When the frog princess heard the noises the old man made as he walked along the dried up stream bed, she hopped out to see what those sounds could be.


To her surprise and excitement, she saw an old man, older than Father Time himself.


The little frog princess was so ecstatic she could hardly contain herself. She began screaming loudly, as loudly as a little frog is able to scream from a dried up stream bed in an enchanted forest, trying desperately to get the attention of the old man.

Finally, the old man gazed downward only to discover a cute and tiny frog attempting to gain his undivided attention for some type of conversation of sorts.

The old man bent over to talk with the little frog and to hear what she was saying. For the old man, eighty-seven years old to be exact, was slightly hard of hearing.

The frog princess explained that, centuries before, a wicked queen had cast a spell upon her and turned her into a frog. She then said, “If you will but kiss me I will turn back into a beautiful princess and I will be yours to love and be with for the rest of your life! I will make you very, very happy if you will only kiss me, kind sir!”

The old man could hardly believe his feeble ears. Could this tale be true? The old man questioned the frog, “Are you really telling me the truth? Are you truthfully a beautiful princess who has been turned into a frog?”

The little frog princess assured the old man that she was indeed a beautiful princess under a wicked spell and that all that was needed to change her back into her pretty little self was a kiss.

“Please kiss me, kind sir. Please!” exclaimed the little frog princess.
“You are a truthfully a beautiful princess?” inquired the old man, “and if I kiss you, you will turn back into a lovely princess who a wicked queen changed into a little, cute frog centuries ago?”
The little frog princess once again assured the kind-hearted old man, who was eighty-seven years old to be exact, that she was indeed telling him the truth and that one kiss would return her to her former self and princess beauty.

“Please kiss me, kind sir! Please!” said the hopeful frog princess.
The very old man, eighty-seven years old to be exact, bent over and picked up the frog princess in his hand and placed her snugly into his pocket. He then carefully continued his walk, ever so slowly, down the trail in the dried up stream bed.

Slightly alarmed by the old man’s action, the little frog princess began kicking and squirming from inside the dark pocket of the old man’s coat. She screamed a question, “Why won’t you kiss me, kind sir?” I am a beautiful princess and I will be yours for all of your life if you will but kiss me. Don’t you want a beautiful princess for all of your own?”

The old man carefully and slowly opened his coat pocket and peered inside at the cute, little frog princess. “I am far too old for a beautiful princess,” stated the old man, eighty-seven years old to be exact, “I would much rather have a talking frog!”


And . . .
     They both lived happily ever after . . . at least the old man did, anyway.

For now, anyway . . .