Category Archives: The Penniless Princess
As in the book, Carrisford and his servant/s prepare a surprise for the poor little girl next door to them. (They mean Sara, of course; Becky doesn’t seem to be much noticed.) While Sara sleeps, the peas and the poodle decorate her room and cover her with blankets and leave a bunch of food. Hilariously, it is the poodle who does the lion’s share of the work…possibly because she has functional limbs.
As in the book, Sara wakes up and believes she is still dreaming, though this Sara describes it as “the best dream in the world.” Which, not to be insensitive or anything, but wouldn’t the best dream in the world involve getting her beloved father back?
In the book, Sara is convinced she is not dreaming because a dream fire would not feel hot. Here, it is because she can taste chocolate. And in the book, Sara immediately goes to get Becky and bring her over to share. Here, Becky has to come under her own steam.
“Oh, Miss Sara, m’night was so bad, it was—“
Dude, seriously. I…don’t think I want to know.
In the book, a note has been left for Sara, that this is all from “a friend.” Additionally, Sara gives some credit to “The Magic,” but knows she has a new human friend. And from the beginning, she wants to thank that friend, even though knowing who it is would make things just a bit less magical. In fact, she writes a heartfelt note and leaves it for the friend (who manages to sneak into the room and take away leftovers and leave fresh while the girls are working).
In The Penniless Princess, things are so much simpler:
“God did it. He’s taking care of us!”
And no, Sara doesn’t even thank that God, much less the vegetable agents of his will.
Sara and Becky sing a refrain of the Keepin’ On song, which is a lot easier to believe when you’re warm and well-fed. The poodle puppy, Soleil, even finds Mortimer and leaves him on the bed. I think we can agree at this point that Soleil is the real heroine of this story.
In fact, Soleil is so committed to detail that she accidentally stays in the room too long, getting the positioning of a vase just right. Sara thinks Soleil has just “wandered over” because she smelled food, and resolves to take her back next door. The same thing happens in the book, only with the Indian manservant’s pet monkey.
Then another book scene is mirrored, where Amelia finally calls out Miss Minchin on her treatment of Sara with a glorious Reasons You Suck speech. (Again, Becky doesn’t get a mention.) They have a “you’re-fired-you-can’t-fire-me-I-quit” moment.
(This scene is one of the very few places where the 1986 miniseries deviated from the book. In the book, Amelia gives the Reasons You Suck speech, but it is presumed that she continues on as partner at the school. In the miniseries, in an awesome worm-turning moment, Amelia resigns in protest, even if it means a future as “a frumpish nursemaid.”)
Anyway, at the next-door house, the peas are planning the evening, with an admittedly gigglesome exchange:
“I sink tonight we should bake zee girls a secret cake.”
“Wiz a secret surprise eenside! Like a pair of very nice shoes.”
“Eenside zee cake?”
“I am only brainstorming.”
Sara meets with Carrisford, who immediately opens his heart to her, explaining that he needs a miracle.
“Oh, I believe in miracles, Mr. Carrisford.”
Carrisford tells her about the poor girl he is trying to find (without naming her, natch), and Sara volunteers to “help” by praying for her. But of course, to properly pray for her, she needs to know her name, and Carrisford tells her, and then she tells him her father’s name, and thus they each discover who the other is.
Names of Sara’s father in versions of A Little Princess:
Book and 1986 miniseries: Ralph
1917 Mary Pickford version: Richard
1939 Shirley Temple version: Reginald
1995 Liesel Matthews version: (no first name given)
Shokojo Seira: Ryunosuke
The Penniless Princess: Douglas
Damn, VeggieTales, why you deviate? Was “Ralph” deemed a silly name or something? And why not at least follow the deviation tradition and pick an “R” name.
On the bright side, however, I’d like to point out something awesome here:
CAPTAIN CREWE REMAINS DEAD!!!
Seriously, I went into this movie with strong reservations. You see, the 1939 Shirley Temple version, followed by the 1995 Liesel Matthews version, both changed the story and made Captain Crewe SURPRISE not dead after all. Spared by the Adaptation (in both movies, due to a case of injury-in-battle-causes-amnesia), Sara (accidentally in the 1995 version, on purpose in the 1939 version) finds her father, and they live happily ever after.
Now, this is bizarre and disturbing for several different reasons. For one, it creates a YUUUGE plothole in the 1939 version. Sara is informed that her father’s fortune was “confiscated by the enemy.” By the end of the film, this has never been resolved, leaving us to conclude that, sure, they are together again, but still dirt poor.
I have a real problem with this because of the message it sends. Shirley Temple’s Sara refuses to believe her father is dead. She “knows it can’t be.” So she hunts for him for months. But this is a movie involving the Boer War, where soldiers are dying by the day. Indeed, there is a small but heartrenching scene in which people are checking the lists of the wounded and the dead, and an older woman is led away in hysterics, because her only son has died. So Sara gets her father back, because it “can’t be” that he is dead, but this poor woman’s son is still gone? Well, gee, lady, I guess you just didn’t want it enough.
Similar thing happens in the Liesel Matthews version, where Sara does believe her father is dead, but happily finds him alive. I mean, okay, I get that they don’t want people to cry, right? But is it really a better strategy to teach kids that death isn’t permanent? That if you just wish hard enough, dead people won’t stay dead?
Where was I? Oh yeah, The Penniless Princess. Carrisford Asparagus promises to take care of Sara from now on, natch, and the peas are again kinda cute and funny:
“Why did we not ask her name sooner?”
“It seems so obvious after the fact!”
Then Miss Minchin comes over to collect Sara, and all is revealed, and Miss Minchin has an exchange with Sara that is out of the book, but changed ever so slightly.
In the book:
“I suppose that you feel now that you are a princess again.”
Sara looked down and flushed a little, because she thought her pet fancy might not be easy for strangers—even nice ones—to understand at first.
“I—TRIED not to be anything else,” she answered in a low voice—“even when I was coldest and hungriest, I tried not to be.”
In The Penniless Princess:
“I suppose that you feel you are a princess again.”
“I always was. Even if someone looks like a servant on the outside, they can still be a princess on the inside.”
Sara looks really smug when she says this, btw.
Miss Minchin is going to respond to this, but her Evil Allergies take over, and she just hops out.
So, with the villain dispensed with, we only have Becky to worry about.
I admit I was pretty curious by this point. See, different versions have dealt with Becky differently. Time for another list!
Book and 1986 miniseries: Becky moves next door, becoming Sara’s attendant/companion
1917 Mary Pickford version: Sorta implies that Becky is also adopted by Carrisford.
1939 Shirley Temple version: Um…who knows? Becky is captured by the police, who believe she and Sara stole all the nice things Carrisford gave them. Then Sara finds her father, and we don’t hear from Becky again. So I guess she rots in jail.
1995 Liesel Matthews version: Adopted by Captain Crewe; they all move back to India.
Shokojo Seira: Boy-Becky gets to go to college, as he’s always dreamed of doing.
The Penniless Princess: BECKY IS MADE A STUDENT AT THE SCHOOL, NOW RUN BY AMELIA!!!
Okay, I am totally digging this ending. I mean, I get that for the time and society in which it was written, making Becky a (very happy) paid companion was a huge step up and a big, big deal. But most modern audiences of kids would probably not “get” that—why does Sara get a fortune and a new daddy when Becky, who has never had anything ever, gets to…still be a servant?
So, down with this.
Finally, in the book and in the miniseries, we revisit the baker and the hungry child. The baker has all but adopted the child, making her an apprentice in the shop.
In The Penniless Princess, the MALE baker has also adopted/apprenticed the hungry BOY child. Grrr…
“When I saw your kindness, I realized how much I have to give.” [Bob the Tomato/Baker says to Sara]
That’s pretty awesome, Bob, and hopefully you’ll teach your new SON better manners than Sara, as well as kindness.
(Yeah, still annoyed that female characters were changed to male. Sure, VeggieTales, get rid of an awesome woman character to make room for a MAN.)
One last chorus of the “God’s Little Princess” song, and a new final line of the song…
If your dreams live or die, you’ll be…God’s little princess.
Dreams dying! Fun! Annnnnnd…we’re out!
Back to the real Bob and Larry the Cuke, who teach us today’s important lesson from the Bible: Romans 8:39. So God loves us no matter what, so we can love others, no matter what (yeah, right, we see sooooo much of that from RTCs), so little girl from the beginning with the letter, suck it up when people are assholes, because you’re God’s pretty little princess.
I mean, this wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be. I’m still not into the whole VeggieTales look, with the levitating and the hopping and the sliced bottoms, but there were a few genuine chuckles here and there.
I see in the credits that this was written by two men…who were apparently very threatened by the fact that there were more female characters than male in A Little Princess.
This kinda makes me want to do another VeggieTales thing, maybe for Easter or something.
But for now…
On to Persecuted!
Cut to downstairs in the house next door, where we learn that the employer of the French Peas is the old friend of Sara’s father. He has “recovered your fortune, but cannot find your sweet daughter.” Which is all very true to the book, so cool.
That being said, does anyone with more familiarity with VeggieTales know if the same vegetables are related to each other? I mean, I assume not, because Sara was spawned of a cucumber. Then again, we don’t know what vegetable her mother was.
I say this because Carrisford is an asparagus, which makes him look like Ermie’s father to me. Also he looks delicious. Gawd, I love asparagus.
Then comes another scene right out of the book. And some of my goodwill is washed away as they…well, they VeggieTale it right up.
Sara finds a fourpenny piece in the street. And she promptly thanks God for it. She heads right to the baker. In the book, the baker is woman—a grown, single woman who runs her own thriving business, thank you very much. Awesome.
Here, they have made the baker Bob the To-mah-to. Whatsa matter, VeggieTales, too many women in this story? Why the hell not make Bob be Carrisford instead?
In both the book and The Penniless Princess, Sara attempts to buy four penny buns, and the baker, out of an abundance of kindness, slips in two more.
In the book, Sara thanks the baker twice. In The Penniless Princess, Sara thanks him not at all. Instead, she takes the buns and heads across the street, where she thanks God instead of the baker.
Okay, hon, I get thanking God for the coin, which did kinda come out of nowhere, but a person (okay a tomato, but my point stands) gave you extra buns, not God.
Then, in both the book and movie, Sara spies a homeless child, colder and hungrier than she is. In the book, the child is a girl, and Sara gives her five buns, keeping one for herself. In TPP, the child is a boy (Whatsa matter, VeggieTales, too many women in this story?) and Sara gives him all of the buns.
Which is especially grating because they immediately cut to her meeting up with Becky in the attic. Becky plaintively asks if she brought any food. Sara wisely doesn’t mention that she got free food, but gave it all away.
I now amuse myself by imagining Sara saying that…and Becky kicking her veggieass.
Anyway, Ermie is also in the attic, inexplicably hiding under a bed. As in the book, she offers to share a care package from home.
In the book, there is a charming sequence where Sara takes bits of detritus from around the room, setting the table with them and painting a word picture for Becky and Ermengarde of a banquet hall where three princesses can feast.
Here, Sara just proposes they “give thanks.” To God, not her friend. Again, Sara, a person (Ermie) provided this for you. The words “thank you” do not leave Sara’s veggielips, though they do leave Becky’s. So it seems the street orphan has better manners than God’s Little Princess.
And, just as in the book, Miss Minchin catches them before they can actually eat a bite.
In this scene in the book, Miss Minchin could not give less of a crap about the doll, Emily. In TPP, Mortimer makes Miss Minchin sneeze again, so she chucks him out the window. Honestly, I don’t find that action entirely evil. Allergies, yanno?
Miss Minchin takes everything away and threatens Becky with firing. Me, I’d rather be fired by a sentient, armless green onion than this slimy asshole:
Anyway, Sara is left in tears.
“I know you will work everything out, God—but when? When? I know I am still your princess, but sometimes I am afraid I am only pretending.”
Heh. How ironic. Yanno, in the book, Sara is very conscious that she is pretending. She uses her princess-pretending as a personal philosophy, behavior guide, and coping mechanism. And she knows she’s doing this. It’s pretending for a purpose.
Here, Sara really believes that she is the real princess of a real god. This is why it’s sadly hilariously when preachers exhort us not to rely on ourselves, but only on God. Because Sara has now worked herself into a position where if she loses her God, she’s lost everything. She has no other coping mechanism for when things go wrong.
She sings a short and pathetic song about how she misses her (earthly) father but knows she is not fatherless because of her (heavenly) father. It is decidedly tuneless and not-sing-along-able.
She ends on a spoken, “I trust you, God.”
Though even if she didn’t, other persons/vegetables are about to take action in her life.
But I’m sure Sara won’t thank them, either.
Time for Sara’s birthday party, the pivotal moment in the story when she loses everything. Again, The Penniless Princess plays pretty fair with the original—a pivotal moment is kept, where Sara all but forces Miss Minchin to allow Becky to stay at her party.
But, for every time TPP stays true to the story, we need a departure. In the book, Becky made Sara a present for her birthday: a handmade, though dirty and worn, pincushion. Becky gives it with the recommendation that Sara can use her pretending skills to imagine it is “satin with diamond pins in.” It’s all very sweet.
Here, Becky has painted a rock with a monkey. I guess because Sara is from Africa? Whatevs. I’m rather inclined to agree with Miss Minchin on this one:
“A monkey rock. Fantastic.”
(btw, something else I should mention about Becky. She has a Cockney accent. This is not odd, and in fact is true to the book. The thing that is odd is that no other child, Sara included, speak with American accents, even though this movie takes place in London. Shades of the Shirley Temple version again.)
(As well, Miss Minchin speaks with an English accent, but a rather silly one such as an American might put on if they were goofily portraying an English villain.)
Anywho, just as the party is getting into full swing, Miss Minchin receives bad news: Captain Crewe is dead, and died penniless. In the book, Captain Crewe invested in a friend’s diamond mines, and then died of a combination of fever and stress when he lost everything.
Hilariously, the Shirley Temple version creates a giant plot hole with dad’s death: Captain Crewe is (presumably) killed in the Siege of Mafeking, and “his property and his mines were confiscated by the enemy.” Which, okay, but by the end of the film, when Sara has found her papa (alive, though injured and with amnesia that she immediately cures by screaming at him), there has been no word on the property and mines being restored. Meaning that yes, Sara has found her father, but they still have no money and he is now a disabled vet.
But I digress. The death scene is rather artfully done here, with a fellow soldier presenting Miss Minchin with Captain Crewe’s hat.
“You father has died. And what is worse, he has lost all his money in the diamond mine.”
Again, fair enough. That explanation should suffice for little kids.
And again, true to the book, Miss Minchin makes Sara into a servant, so she can try to recoup some of the money Captain Crewe owed her.
A month passes, and Sara becomes hungry and tired, but she and Becky keep their princessy perkiness and sing a song as they clean the school. And it is just creepy and bizarre to watch Sara scrub a floor, levitating the brush back and forth and she lies, armless, on the floor.
But here, see for yourself:
(This splices together several times that they sing the song—the scenes starting at about 1:28 don’t happen until later.)
(Also, the bit where the students tramp across the freshly-cleaned floor is straight out of the 1995 Americanized version.)
We get a shot of Sara reading her Bible before snuffing out her candle and hitting the hay, and then we get a Silly Song. Apparently, these are a staple of VeggieTales, to mix up the format and provide a bit of an intermission. It’s a totally-unrelated-to-The-Penniless-Princess scene and song, where two besties text each other, despite being in the same room. No mention of God, who I guess approves of incessant texting.
Back in Sara and Becky’s attic, Sara is telling Becky a Bible story. In keeping with the best VeggieTales criticism, this is an Old Testament story, of Joseph and his jacket, which VeggieTales has also made into an episode. Then Ermie shows up, and Sara shows them both the story (her Bible is illustrated with vegetables), explaining again that God loves them no matter what.
Becky then shows Ermie the way back to the actual school part of the building, which gives Sara an opportunity to meet the people next door. See, in the book, Sara meets a servant who lives next door to her, an Indian man named Ram Dass. He is manservant to the owner of the house, whom Sara knows only as “the Indian gentleman,” because he is an English gentleman from India. And will, of course, become very important later.
But since this Sara is from Africa rather than India, we get…two French servants.
Yep, makes total sense to me.
And instead of a pet monkey, they have a pet poodle. Because of course they do.
On that note, we’ll stop for this installment. But I did want to mention: despite my bitching, I am not a die-hard purist of A Little Princess. I think changes like India to Africa are silly because they are pointless, but if a version wants to dig into the characters and explore new things, I welcome it. In fact, my second favorite version, after the 1986 miniseries, is Shokojo Seira, which takes places in present-day Japan. Becky is a boy and Miss Minchin has a wannabe-boyfriend and Sara is marvelously imperfect, which even the Ermengarde counterpart calling her out for condescension and self-absorption. It’s…kinda awesome.
Having arrived at school, we meet the villain of the piece, Miss Minchin. And honestly, not bad. I can dig it. Apparently, she is a green onion. I have no idea if different vegetables are supposed to mean different things, btw, or if they just pick different veggies and try to include everything.
In another bit of adult humor, there is an ominous thunder-and-lightning when Miss Minchin is introduced, despite the sunny day outside. I admit, I chuckled.
But I need help with something. The introduction of Miss Minchin is also the introduction of a running gag: any time anyone says the words “Miss Minchin,” a horse whinnies. This is played for laughs, but I don’t get the joke. Honestly, I have absolutely no idea. Help!
We also meet Miss Amelia. In the book, Miss Amelia is Miss Minchin’s browbeaten younger sister. Here, they have combined the character with the French master from the book, Msr. Dufarge. So the character is still Amelia, but not Miss Minchin’s sister and she teaches French.
Eh, I can dig that, too. They have to shorten this story somehow.
What I can’t dig, however, is that Amelia is a blueberry. Last I checked, blueberries are not vegetables.
Oh, and while I’m at it, check this out:
Here is Sara in The Penniless Princess.
Here is Sara from the miniseries, looking very much as Sara is described in the book.
And here is Shirley Temple as Sara.
So, suspicion confirmed: they were clearly basing this more on the Temple version than the actual book. Sara Crewe, the real one, has short, straight dark hair, not red ringlets.
Not to mention that immediately, Sara acts all cutesy-child, in a decidedly un-Sara Crewe-like way:
“We rode a boat all the way from Africa! There was a storm one night at dinner, and the waiters kept dropping the dishes!” *giggles*
And the hits just keep on coming. Much as in the book, Sara requests a single doll, to have someone to talk to while her father is gone.
“You mean like…THIS ONE???” *Captain Crewe levitates a teddy bear out of thin air*
Um, no, Dad. That is a teddy bear. I asked for a doll. Idiot.
But Sara is delighted, even though every single other version has gotten this right: Sara has a doll, named Emily.
Now she has a bear, whom she inexplicably names Mortimer. Again, I am at a loss as to why they made this change. The only possibility that occurs to me is they felt there was a lack of male characters in this show, so they changed Sara’s toy from a girl doll to a boy bear.
(This is not the last gender-switch they will pull, either. Grrr…)
Miss Minchin, btw, is allergic to Mortimer. Or his stuffing, or something. This is also played for laughs. Allergies, HA!
All that done, Sara and Captain Crewe hug (or rather, they lean against each other, because no arms), and off he goes, back to
Sara immediately (and I do mean right that very second) goes to French class. In another cute moment of adult humor, the lesson is completely on French phrases that many American adults would know, such as “a la mode” and “cul-de-sac.”
This French class scene stays mostly true to the book: it’s a pivotal scene, where Miss Minchin first begins to truly resent Sara, already bilingual at age seven. In fact, it’s one of several instances where dialogue is lifted directly from the book, so..kudos!
Here, we also meet Sara’s future best friend, Ermengarde. And here we have a change: Ermengarde in the book is a not-very-bright girl, due to a combination of being…well, not very bright, and having a very overbearing father. But she and Sara are BFFs anyway, because Ermengarde also happens to be sweet and loyal and generous and loving.
And here, “Ermie” (a piece of asparagus) is just a goofball. The kind of cutesy little sidekick who shrieks every line. Great.
And it’s time for another song! Great. Again. This one is about imagining things. Now, this is a very important theme of A Little Princess—that imagining things can help us get through tough times…but this song, again, just doesn’t seem very catchy to me.
So, after their one five-minute class of the day, and their one five-minute playtime of the day, Sara and Ermie part ways and Sara heads back to her room…where she finds the little servant girl, Becky, asleep. This is, again, a very true-to-the-book scene, right up until the show starts playing it for laughs, having Becky (a blonde-haired carrot, if you care) fall asleep every few seconds, then wake up and not remember a thing, all Memento-style.
Sara proves her niceness by levitating a piece of cake at Becky.
And so, we now know all the characters we need to know…for now. The Penniless Princess has completely dispensed with Lottie, another of Sara’s friends from the book. And again, I don’t blame them for that a bit—Lottie is a very young, motherless girl whom Sara takes under her wing, even going so far as to let Lottie pretend that she, Sara, is her mama. And I can see how that might be confusing for the little kids this is aimed at.
Next time…Sara’s birthday party!
Okay, kiddies, let’s start 2017 off with some lighthearted fun. I think we need it after this past year, when seriously only ONE good thing happened. (Mind you, it was a big thing, and awesome!)
And speaking of classic literature for girls, I happen to have been kinda obsessed with A Little Princess since I was about seven. So this review will have copious comparisons to both the book, and the other movies/miniseries based on it.
First of all, this appears to be the first time A Little Princess has been Christianized. And A Little Princess is decidedly not a Christian book. In fact, there are more (and more serious) references to the Hindu gods of Sara’s childhood in India than there are to the Christian God. It would appear that Sara has a very egalitarian view of religion, saying “God bless you” to someone, yet also respecting other belief systems. The same goes for Ram Dass, who at one point is of the opinion that Carrisford’s Christian God could lead him to Sara.
(Okay, I realize I’m naming names and all, so obviously I’ll be spoiler-rich in this critique, all the way along. Fortunately, A Little Princess is the in the public domain, as are two of the movies, the 1917 Mary Pickford treatment, and the Shirley Temple version from 1939.
Jesus doesn’t even rate a mention in the book. Ironically, this is a criticism frequently made of VeggieTales in general by Christians: they mostly do Old Testament stories, and generally mention God, but hardly ever Jesus.
I’ll also say, by way of intro, that the VeggieTales have always kinda freaked me out. I never watched them as a kid, so I have no nostalgia associated with them. And frankly, their lack of arms and legs confuses and frightens me, especially when things they are “holding” simply levitate in front of them.
And I also am weirded out by the way most of the veggies look like they have already been chopped with a knife! I mean, just look at this horrific shit:
They’re ready to be tossed in a salad right now! So they should not be singing!
Oh well. Enough with my terror of vegetables that have clearly been infected with rage virus. On with the story!
The Penniless Princess opens as all VeggieTales…um…tales do: with that obnoxious opening song, followed by Larry the Cuke and Bob the To-mah-to talking about what we’re going to see.
I admit, some of the VeggieTales humor meant to appeal to adults is kinda cute and charming.
“Ah, the classics. They are so very classy.”
Larry reads a letter from some little girl from England, who has trouble being nice when people are assholes to her.
And so this segues into the story of Sara Crewe, a rhubarb spawned of a cucumber (Larry the Cuke also plays her dad), fresh off the boat from Africa and WRONG.
Sara Crewe grew up in India, not Africa. So we are left with the question of whether all foreign places are basically the same to the writers or (what I consider the more likely option) they were basing this story more on the Shirley Temple version than the actual book.
But honestly, I can’t otherwise imagine why they would randomly change where Sara grew up.
Anyway, the jokes-for-grown-ups start right off the bat…
“Musicals are so unrealistic!” [cries a random veggie] “People just bursting into song for no reason.”
…and the veggies do indeed burst into song for no reason. Now, an immediate song in a musical can have good reason: it can establish the setting and quickly and clearly introduce the main characters. Think “Good Morning, Baltimore” in Hairspray or “Skid Row” in Little Shop of Horrors.
Here, the song more introduces us to the theme: that Sara is a princess not just because she is her daddy’s little princess, but because she is also “daughter of a King” (God). This is the most significant change from the book…the why of “princess.” The book itself, and the very best (by a lot) screen version of it, the 1986 miniseries, demonstrate that Sara is a princess because she is trying to behave like a princess behaves. And she means that in the very best sense: princesses are supposed to be generous and kind and gracious and aware of all their privileges.
Other versions tweak this considerably: the insufferable (I know, voice crying in the wilderness) 1995 version simply states that all girls are princesses, because…well, because all girls are princesses, silly! And the Shirley Temple version simply seems to think Sara is a princess because she’s rich.
In fact, The Penniless Princess takes away more than just the why of princess; it takes away the agency of the princess in question. See, the whole behave-like-a-princess thing was Sara’s own idea, her unique personal philosophy. And a decidedly unreligious philosophy, at that. When things were at their worst, Sara didn’t turn to Jesus, but to her own “imaginings” and ideas. And if there’s one thing that’s antithetical to modern RTC-anity, it’s having a unique personal philosophy that has nothing to do with Jesus. Leaning on your own understanding, if you will, and being (gasp!) self-reliant.
Anyway, I gather that most of these VeggieTales songs are meant to be sung along with by kids, but I find this first one thoroughly uninspiring. And not just because I don’t share the belief system, but because of lyrics like these:
My little princess
You’ll never guess
How much love that
Your one life can bring
My little princess
For you are loved by me
And loved by the King
And Sara doesn’t even have one line to sing in this whole song.
And so, we arrive at The Minchin School for Lovely Little Ladies, which I consider a cute play on the school’s title. At least, it saves parents having to Google the words “Select Seminary.”
And next time, we’ll meet Miss Minchin!
The one and only REAL Miss Minchin.