Cinderella

In a small village, tucked between rolling green hills, lived a kind-hearted girl named Cinderella. She wasn’t like other children who spent their days playing. Instead, Cinderella worked from dawn till dusk, sweeping the floors, tending the fire, and scrubbing pots until her hands were red and sore. Her stepmother, a stern and selfish woman, and her two stepsisters, who were as vain as they were unkind, made sure Cinderella never had a moment's rest.

Despite her hardships, Cinderella found happiness in the little things: the soft cooing of the doves on her windowsill, the gentle rustling of the trees in the wind, and the cheerful chirping of the mice who lived in the house. Her bright spirit was a light in even the darkest corners of her life.

One morning, the village buzzed with excitement. A royal messenger had arrived on horseback, his trumpet ringing through the streets.

“Hear ye! Hear ye!” he cried. “By order of His Majesty, the King, every young maiden in the land is invited to a grand ball at the palace tomorrow night. The prince will choose a bride!”

Cinderella’s stepsisters squealed with delight. “He’ll pick me for sure!” said the elder, twirling her hair.

“Don’t be silly,” snapped the younger. “You couldn’t charm a frog! He’ll choose me!”

Their mother clapped her hands. “Enough squabbling, girls. Let’s prepare!”

Cinderella watched quietly, her heart aching. “May I go too?” she asked timidly.

The room fell silent before the stepsisters burst into laughter. “You? Go to the ball? What would you wear, a rag?”

Her stepmother smirked. “If you finish all your chores and find something decent to wear, I suppose you can go.”

Cinderella worked harder than ever that day and the next, but her stepmother made sure there were always more tasks to keep her from preparing. By the time they left for the ball, Cinderella was exhausted and heartbroken.

She sat by the fire, tears streaming down her face, when suddenly, a warm light filled the room. Startled, she turned to see a woman with a kind smile and a wand that shimmered like starlight.

“Don’t cry, dear,” said the woman softly. “I am your fairy godmother, and you shall go to the ball.”

Cinderella gasped. “But how? I have nothing to wear, and no way to get there!”

The fairy godmother winked. “Leave that to me.” She tapped a pumpkin with her wand, and it transformed into a gleaming golden carriage. With another wave, the mice became fine white horses, and the family’s old gray cat turned into a stately coachman.

“Now for you, my dear.” With a flourish, the fairy godmother waved her wand, and Cinderella’s ragged dress transformed into a gown of silver and blue, sparkling like moonlight on water. On her feet appeared delicate glass slippers that shimmered with every step.

“Oh, it’s beautiful!” Cinderella whispered, twirling.

“One more thing,” the fairy godmother said. “You must leave the ball before midnight. When the clock strikes twelve, the magic will fade.”

“I promise!” Cinderella said.

The carriage pulled up, and Cinderella climbed in. As it rolled toward the palace, her heart raced with excitement.

When she arrived, the palace doors opened to reveal a dazzling ballroom. Chandeliers glittered overhead, and the music of violins filled the air. As Cinderella stepped inside, every head turned. The prince, standing by the grand staircase, was captivated. He walked straight to her and bowed deeply.

“May I have this dance?” he asked.

Cinderella’s cheeks flushed, but she nodded. He led her to the center of the ballroom, and they began to waltz. The music swirled around them, and Cinderella felt as though she were floating. The prince smiled at her with such kindness that, for the first time, she felt truly special.

Hours passed in what seemed like moments. Suddenly, the clock began to chime.

“Oh no!” Cinderella gasped. “I must go!”

“Wait!” the prince called, but she had already dashed toward the door. In her haste, one of her glass slippers slipped off, but she didn’t stop to retrieve it.

As the clock struck twelve, Cinderella’s gown turned back into rags, and the golden carriage vanished. She hurried home, clutching the memories of the magical night close to her heart.

The next day, the prince sent his men to search for the mystery girl. They carried the glass slipper to every house, declaring that the prince would marry the girl whose foot it fit. When they arrived at Cinderella’s home, her stepsisters shoved their feet into the slipper, wincing and grunting, but it was no use.

“Is there anyone else in the house?” the servant asked.

“No,” the stepmother said quickly, but Cinderella appeared in the doorway. “May I try?”

The stepmother scoffed. “You? Don’t waste their time.”

But the servant insisted. Cinderella sat down and slipped her foot into the glass slipper. It fit perfectly!

At that moment, the prince himself arrived. He recognized her instantly. “It’s you,” he said, his eyes lighting up.

Cinderella smiled shyly. “Yes, it’s me.”

The prince knelt before her. “Will you marry me?”

Tears of joy filled Cinderella’s eyes. “Yes,” she whispered.

The wedding was a grand celebration. Cinderella invited her stepmother and stepsisters, who were humbled by her kindness. From that day on, she lived happily with the prince, her days filled with love, laughter, and the magic of a kind heart.