Cinderella

Once upon a time, there lived a wealthy gentleman who had a beautiful and kind daughter. After his wife died, he remarried a proud and haughty woman who had two daughters of her own, both as mean-spirited and selfish as their mother.

The gentleman’s daughter, on the other hand, was everything good and beautiful. Her stepmother and stepsisters, envious of her goodness and beauty, forced her to do all the menial work in the house. She scrubbed the floors, cleaned the fireplace, and slept on a straw mattress in the attic while her stepsisters enjoyed fine rooms with comfortable beds and tall mirrors.

Each evening, after a long day of work, she would sit by the cinders in the kitchen hearth for warmth, which earned her the nickname “Cinderella.”

“Cinderella!” her stepmother would call. “Have you swept the floors?”

“Yes, stepmother,” Cinderella would reply softly.

“Cinderella! Have you polished the silver?” one stepsister would demand.

“Yes, sister,” she would answer.

“Cinderella! My dresses need mending!” the other would command.

And Cinderella, with her gentle nature, would fulfill all their demands without complaint, though tears would sometimes roll down her cheeks when she was alone.

One day, a royal proclamation announced that the king’s son would hold a grand ball, and all eligible young women in the kingdom were invited. Cinderella’s stepsisters were ecstatic.

“I shall wear my red velvet dress with French trimming,” said the eldest.

“And I shall wear my gold-flowered gown with my diamond necklace,” said the younger.

Cinderella helped them prepare for the ball, styling their hair and offering suggestions for their outfits, though her heart ached with longing to attend the ball herself.

“May I go to the ball too?” Cinderella asked timidly.

Her stepmother and stepsisters laughed cruelly. “You? With your ragged clothes and dirty face? The prince would mistake you for a servant! Besides, who would do the chores if you were gone?”

When the night of the ball arrived and her family had departed, Cinderella sat alone by the kitchen hearth and wept. Suddenly, in a flash of light, an elderly woman with a kind smile appeared before her.

“Why are you crying, my dear?” asked the woman.

“I wish I could go to the ball,” Cinderella sobbed.

“And you shall,” said the woman, revealing herself to be Cinderella’s fairy godmother. “But first, bring me a pumpkin from the garden.”

Cinderella obeyed, and with a wave of her wand, the fairy godmother transformed the pumpkin into a magnificent golden carriage.

“Now, six mice from the mousetrap,” the fairy godmother instructed.

Cinderella brought the mice, which were transformed into six splendid horses to pull the carriage.

“A rat from the rat-trap will make a fine coachman,” continued the fairy godmother, turning a large rat into a coachman with an impressive mustache.

“And six lizards will be your footmen,” she added, transforming the garden lizards into six footmen in elegant livery.

Finally, the fairy godmother turned to Cinderella herself. With a touch of her wand, Cinderella’s ragged dress transformed into a gown of silver and gold, more magnificent than her stepsisters’. On her feet appeared delicate glass slippers, the most beautiful shoes ever seen.

“Now, you may go to the ball,” said the fairy godmother, “but remember, this magic will only last until midnight. At the first stroke of twelve, everything will return to its original state.”

“I understand,” said Cinderella gratefully. “Thank you!”

At the palace, Cinderella’s entrance caused a stir. The prince, enchanted by her beauty and grace, danced with her all evening, much to the chagrin of her unrecognizing stepsisters.

“Who is that beautiful princess?” they wondered, never suspecting it was the girl they mistreated daily.

The evening passed like a dream for Cinderella, but as she danced with the prince, she heard the first stroke of midnight. Remembering her fairy godmother’s warning, she broke away from the prince and fled, losing one of her glass slippers on the palace stairs in her haste.

The prince tried to follow her but found only the tiny glass slipper. Determined to find the mysterious princess, he declared that he would marry the woman whose foot fit the slipper perfectly.

The prince’s servants traveled throughout the kingdom, trying the slipper on the foot of every young woman. When they arrived at Cinderella’s house, the stepsisters eagerly tried to squeeze their feet into the delicate slipper.

“If I cut off my toe, I can make it fit,” said the eldest desperately, trying to force her foot in.

“If I slice my heel, it will surely fit,” said the younger, equally determined.

But the prince’s assistant noticed their deception and declared neither was the rightful owner.

“Is there no other young woman in this household?” he inquired.

“Only Cinderella,” the stepmother replied dismissively, “but she certainly didn’t attend the ball.”

“Nevertheless, I must try the slipper on every eligible maiden,” insisted the assistant.

When Cinderella emerged from the kitchen, her stepfamily scoffed, but to their astonishment, the glass slipper fit her foot perfectly. From her pocket, Cinderella produced the matching slipper, which she had kept safe.

At that moment, the fairy godmother appeared again, transforming Cinderella’s ragged clothes into a gown even more magnificent than the one she had worn to the ball. Her stepmother and stepsisters fell to their knees, begging forgiveness for their years of cruelty.

Cinderella, with her kind heart, forgave them. She was taken to the palace where the prince recognized her immediately. They were married in a splendid ceremony, and Cinderella, who had never lost her humility or kindness despite her hardships, lived happily ever after with her prince.

And as for the stepsisters, Cinderella, now a princess, invited them to live in the palace, where they learned the value of kindness and mended their wicked ways.