The disobedience of Adam and Eve is what is called original sin – the sin that comes from our origin. Born of pride, it brought about a terrible punishment that would weigh upon the world throughout all the centuries to come. Because the first man and the first woman rebelled against God, all their descendants (except the Blessed Virgin Mary, whom God preserved from this stain) shared in their fault and suffered its consequences.
Every child, upon entering the world, bore upon the soul a mark, like a heavy stain of mire. Heirs of a fallen father, we were born deprived of all spiritual goods, stripped of God’s friendship, and inclined toward evil. From that day forward, humanity was subjected to ignorance, fatigue, hard labor, suffering, sin, and death.
One final consequence of this fatal sin was the most terrible of all: Adam, Eve, and all their descendants were excluded from the Kingdom of Heaven. Yet God loved mankind with an infinite love and could not bring Himself to see them condemned to hell forever.
Immediately after their sin, He made a solemn promise to our first parents: one day, He would send them a Savior, who would redeem humanity and reopen the gates of Heaven. The Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God, would overcome the infernal serpent and crush its head.
Thus, despite their fault, God established a new covenant with the first humans.
Faith in this promise became like a star in the night for Adam and Eve. In their great sorrow, a light of hope arose. They undertook a long penance, offering their suffering and their tears to God. And He, whose justice is perfect but whose mercy is without measure, looked with kindness upon their repentance and granted them His forgiveness. It was through faith in the promise of the coming Messiah that Adam and Eve and their descendants obtained eternal salvation.
A king had gone out hunting with his principal officers. Upon reaching the meeting place, the prince left his retinue and went alone into the depths of the forest. Soon, at some distance, he heard a lively conversation whose meaning he wished to understand. He quietly approached and hid behind a great oak tree.
It was a charcoal burner and his wife, bitterly complaining about the miseries of life. The woman, especially, spoke aloud against God and accused our first parents:
“Ah!” she said, “if I had been in Eve’s place, neither ambition nor curiosity would ever have led me to disobey God!”
The prince let them speak without interrupting. When they finally fell silent, he stepped forward, pretending he had heard nothing:
“You are very unhappy,” he said to them. “If you wish, I will change your condition. You have only to follow me.”
The bearing, the tone, and the grace of the stranger easily persuaded the two charcoal burners. It is so easy to convince us when happiness is promised.
“Come with me,” the prince added.
At once, leaving their work and their tools, they followed him. After a long walk, they reached the edge of the forest, where the prince’s officers and retinue were gathered. The monarch entered his carriage and, to the great astonishment of the entire court, had his two new protégés ride with him.
Upon arriving at the palace, he had fine clothes given to them and apartments worthy of their new condition. Numerous servants were placed at their service, each eager to attend them, for they were seen as favorites of the master. Several days passed in abundance and joy, and the charcoal burner and his wife blessed the prince and strove to please him.
One day, however, he summoned them and said:
“You know from what condition I have raised you; you are happy now. This happiness depends on you alone to last forever. If you are faithful to my commands, your children will enjoy the same advantages. There is but one condition to my favor: you may eat of all the dishes brought to you, except one, which will be placed in the center of the table in a splendid golden vessel, adorned with precious stones and tightly sealed. The day you touch it, you die. Do not forget: your fate and that of your children depend on your fidelity.”
Then the king withdrew. The charcoal burners praised the goodness of a prince who wished to attach their happiness to so easy a condition.
The hour of the meal arrived. The golden vessel appeared. Its elegant shape, the engravings that adorned it, and the pearls that enriched it caught their attention. They had never seen anything so magnificent. The woman, especially, could not take her eyes off it. Yet, out of respect for the king’s command, she did not touch it.
In the days that followed, the vessel was set again upon the table. The more she saw it, the more beautiful it seemed to her. Little by little, a secret desire took hold of her heart: she wanted to know what this mysterious vessel contained.
After two months of this torment, curiosity overcame her.
“Since this vessel has been on the table,” she said to her husband, “everything seems tasteless to me. I would be happy if I could only lift the lid to see what it contains. I have no intention of eating it.”
“Beware of such a thought,” her husband replied. “The king has been clear: the day we touch this vessel, we die.”
“But,” she said, “no one will know. I will only lift the lid a little, take a glance, and close it at once.”
The husband, unwilling to displease his wife, finally yielded.
“At least allow me to help you,” he said. “The danger will be less.”
The woman, eager, leaned forward while her husband gently lifted the lid… But alas, a mouse sprang out of the vessel. Frightened, the woman cried out. The husband dropped the lid, and the little prisoner disappeared.
The king, who was in a nearby room, rushed in at the noise and caught them in the act.
“So this is how you respect my commands!” he said sternly. “You will now suffer the punishment that was announced.”
At these words, he ordered that they be put to death. But his only son suddenly appeared and, throwing himself at the king’s feet, cried out:
“Mercy, my father! Mercy for them! If your justice requires a victim, here I am – I offer you my life.”
The king accepted the mediation of his son and condemned him to die in place of the two guilty ones. He was led to the scaffold and died. In consideration of this sacrifice, the two offenders were granted their lives and were given the means to recover, for themselves and for their children, the blessings they had lost.
“However,” the king said to them, “you will regain the goods you have lost only on the condition that you make use of the means obtained for you by the death of my son. This is the trial I impose upon you. Go, leave my palace, take back your rags and return to your forest. If you are faithful and if you love my son, if you seek to imitate his virtues, I will restore everything to you – and more. Your children, to the last generation, will share in it after you. Nothing will be lacking to you, either for the body or for the soul. If you are in need of anything, ask, and you will be granted it at once.”
Tell us – was there the slightest shadow of injustice or cruelty in the conduct of this good prince? Does it not, on the contrary, shine with the full light of justice and mercy? What has been imagined here was fulfilled in the earthly Paradise. The conduct of this king represents, in every detail, that of God.