This is a story of the resurrection of truth after a sleep of ages. In our own time, after a slumber of three thousand years, Queen Hatshepsut has come to life again in a very real sense — namely, in the hearts and minds of the living. The attempt of her stepson, the Pharaoh Thutmosis, to erase her from history, has been undone. The resurrection of Hatshepsut and of her great Steward, the Architect Senmut, is now a reality. We now know who they were and when they lived and, in some detail, what they achieved. We have the facts, so to speak. But what is still lacking is of a different realm, orders of magnitude in importance above the brute facts of time and place. Hatshepsut was opposed to her stepson, the Pharaoh Thutmosis III. That is the bare fact. But what was the substance, the content, the meaning of that opposition? What was the message of Hatshepsut? That is what is missing from the story. It is one thing to reconstruct a temple, dilapidated, crumbling, and buried in the sand. It is quite another thing to reconstruct a message, a thought, a wish, a breath of air given meaning by the magic of language. But there is a way to trace the outline of the missing thing by the shape of the emptiness it leaves behind. Thutmosis succeeded in erasing the memory of his step-mother Queen. But the people today have no time for Thutmosis and his modern imitators. Their instinct tells them Hatshepsut was for them, and their instinct is right, today as then. There is no lack of tyrants in the mode of Thutmosis, even today. But the world still waits for a new generation of leaders and builders cast in the mold of Hatshepsut, who will lead through the power of love. The world still listens as it strains to catch, behind the turmoil and violence of modern life, the elusive music of the Message of Hatshepsut.