In olden times there lived a prosperous man with his wife and their only daughter whom the parents doted on. They gave the girl all their love and tender care and the affectionate child was worthy of their attentions.

One night the mother had a dream which she feared might spell disaster. But before she could find someone to explain the meaning of the dream to her, she was taken seriously ill. Her heart was failing, and she feared she was not going to recover from it. Her husband had gone in search of a doctor. She called her daughter to her bedside, stroked her cheeks and said sadly,

"I will have to leave this world and go to heaven and my heart aches for you, my poor lamb. Your father and God Almighty in heaven will take care of you. And your mother will watch over you from the other world. Always be kind and good and our hearts will be united for ever, because mother and child are bound with ties of love that no grave or death can ever break. I want you to plant a rowan-tree to adorn my grave, so that the birds might feed on its berries in autumn, and should you be in trouble and have no other friends, ask the birds to help you. Should you have a secret desire in your heart shake the top of the rowan-tree to let me know about it, or if life is hard on you, come and sit underneath the tree, and like your mother's arms it will comfort and soothe you in your grief."

Soon after, even before her husband got back with the doctor, she closed her eyes for ever. The daughter cried piteously and did not leave her mother's side by day or by night before her dead body was placed in her coffin and buried.

The daughter planted a rowan-tree on her mother's grave, raked the earth around its roots and watered it with her tears. The young plant took root and grew into a fine shady tree. The child often sat under her mother's tree. For her this was the dearest place in the world.

The next autumn her father got married again. It did not occur to him to find out first if his second wife would also make a good mother for his daughter. A rich widower never has any difficulty in finding a wife, whereas an orphan will rarely get a good mother.

The stepmother brought along two daughters from her previous marriage. As it is always the case, the bonds of blood are stronger than anything else and the orphan could not expect much warmth. The stepmother idolized her own daughters and thought little of her husband's daughter. As soon as the darling-daughters perceived their mother's attitude towards their stepsister they felt they were privileged, she was destined to be their slave.

As it could be expected, the stepmother showed her a kind face for the first days after the wedding, and so did the daughters, but it was sheer hypocrisy. There was no shred of kindness in them. Their hearts were filled with cruelty, arrogance, wickedness, and other vices, which left no room for the plant of love to take root.

The life of the husband's daughter grew more miserable as the days passed, but father had no eyes to notice it, and no heart to feel pity for his child.

"Why should she loaf about in our chambers!" said the stepmother. "There's enough room in the kitchen. She can take the yoke and carry pails of water from the well. She can work in the cattleshed and the pigsty, and knead bread and do our washing. She has to work for a living."

The girls agreed, "Yes, she has to serve us. She has to be our slavegirl."

They robbed the orphan of all her better clothes. They emptied her mother's chest and took all the pretty things they found in there. The orphan was given some old grey mean rags to wear when she did her daily chores in the kitchen and in the farmyard. As she couldn't possibly look neat and clean, the stepmother and her daughters contemptuously called her Cinderella. They hindered, and humiliated, and vexed her in every way. To her father they tried to make out that she was bad and refractory, so she found no protection when she complained her grief to him. For a long time Cinderella suffered silently, wept and prayed to God, but she never thought of going to her mother's grave to tell the rowan-tree of her sufferings.

One day when she was rinsing the washing in the brook she heard a magpie chatting in the tree-top, "Silly child! Silly child! Why don't you complain your sorrow to the rowan-tree? Why don't you ask the rowan for advice on how to ease your hard life?"

Now Cinderella remembered the last words of her mother and she decided to visit the rowan-tree as soon as she found a spare moment. It was impossible in the daytime, but at night when everybody was asleep she got up quietly, dressed and went to her mother's grave, sat on the mound and shook the tree.

A tiny voice asked, "Is your heart pure and pious as before, or have you gone astray?"

Cinderella answered, "God alone sees and knows the depths of one's heart, but I don't know of any sin in my soul."

Now she felt invisible hands stroke her head and cheeks, and a voice from above advised, "If your life is made unbearable and you can't manage your work, call the cock and the hen to your aid."

The girl could not make out at first in what way the birds could help her. On her way home she remembered that her stepsisters, just out of spite, often scattered the peas and lentils in the ashes of the hearth for her to pick up one by one, before she could put them in the pot to boil. Now for fun she decided to see if the bills of her helpers could really lighten her laborious work.

The king of that country was preparing for a grand ball and sent messengers everywhere to announce in the streets and squares that all pretty and healthy girls between fifteen and twenty years of age were invited to the king's court to a ball which was to last for three days. The only son of the king intended to pick out the most sensible and well-mannered girl he found to his liking.

This announcement aroused great excitement. Fortunately no birth certificate was asked to be brought along, so girls who were a few steps past twenty still could go and try their luck.

Cinderella's stepsisters, the darling-daughters of their mother, were both preparing for the ball. The orphan was kept very busy, working from morning till night. She washed and ironed their dresses and sewed new things, over and above her household work. To make things worse, the elder stepsister threw a basin of lentils into the ashes of the fireplace, shouting, "Pick up the lentils and put them to boil in the pot." Fortunately Cinderella remembered the advice received at her mother's grave and called, "Dear cock and hen. Please, come and pick the lentils!" At once the helpers appeared and set to work, scratching in the ashes. They picked up all the lentils and dropped them into the basin in no time.

On the first day of the ball it was Cinderella's task to help the stepsisters and do their bidding. She had to wash them, do their hair and dress them. Instead of thanking her, they called her names and boxed her ears. Cinderella suffered the wrong patiently and only sighed to heaven. When her stepsisters had left for the ball and she remained at home together with her stepmother she felt such a heavy longing in her heart that tears swelled in her eyes. She would fain have gone to the ball if she had been allowed, and if she had had nice clothes to put on.

After she had cried awhile and the intensity of her sorrow had died down, she took her knitting needles and sat on a low stool near the hearth, and she felt her heart getting a little lighter again. She thought of her dear mother and prayed to God that she might join her. But as long as she lived in this world, she promised herself, she would suffer without complaint until one day in the other world she might rest in the arms of her mother.

Suddenly she heard someone call her name, but raising her eyes she didn't see anyone. After a while a tiny voice urged, "Go and shake the rowan-tree."

Cinderella hurried to fulfil the order. When she shook the tree the dark night grew light as day. A tiny woman dressed in gold brocade was sitting in the tree with a small basket in one hand and a golden wand in the other. The tiny stranger inquired after the girl's life, and having heard her out, descended. She stroked the girl's cheeks and said in a comforting tone, "Your life will change for the better in a short while. But today you have to go to the ball in the king's palace." Cinderella stared in disbelief. She thought the woman was making fun of her.

The tiny woman took an egg out of her basket, touched it with her golden wand and the next moment there stood a beautiful coach on the grass. Then she took six small mice out of a box and turned them into six fine light bay horses, harnessed to the coach. A black beetle was changed into a coachman and two multi-coloured butterflies turned into servants. They opened the door for Cinderella to step in and ride to the ball. But the girl could not go in her raggy clothes. The good little witch—who else could she have been—touched her head with her magic wand, and at once her old clothes were turned into a dress of silk and velvet trimmed with gold and silver. On her head she wore a most beautiful crown studded with precious jewels that shone like the stars in the sky.

The little witch instructed Cinderella, "Go to the ball and enjoy yourself, so that you forget the days of anguish and your heart opens to joys. But when the cock crows the third time at midnight you must not linger a second, but hurry home as fast as you can. Because at midnight the magic power will end, the coach, the horses, the coachman and the servants—all will disappear and you will be what you were before. Therefore, remember my words, or you'll be disgraced and forfeit your fortune."

Cinderella promised to watch the time and seated herself in the coach which rolled towards the king's palace. When she entered the ballroom it was as if the sun had come out. She put all the other ladies and maidens in the shade, just as the moon and the stars fade at sunrise.

Her stepsisters did not recognize her in her splendour, but they were bursting with jealousy. The prince had eyes for no other girls, and never left her side. He danced and talked with her alone, as if there weren't anybody else in the hall. The king and the queen, too, were kind to her, whom they would have gladly accepted as their daughter-in-law.

For a while time stopped for Cinderella. She enjoyed the moments of happiness and splendour to the full. But for the cock's crow at midnight, she might have forgotten the instruction of the little witch.

The second crow caught her rushing out of the palace, the third was heard before she could step into her coach. In a moment the coach, the horses, the servants, all vanished, as if the earth had swallowed them. Cinderella, wearing her own tattered dusty rags, started running home. She raced along, her heart beating furiously and sweat trickling down her cheeks. She lay down in her hard bed beside the hearth and reflected on the beauty and splendour she had seen in the king's palace, and it was a long time before her eyes closed. At last she fell into a sound sleep and the miraculous ball continued in her dreams.

The stepsisters slept until noon. While Cinderella washed and dressed them and combed their hair, they would talk of nothing else but the magnificent ball of the previous night and of the strange girl whose beauty, lovely gown and noble manners surpassed all others and that the prince could not tear his eyes away from her. When the girl left, the prince had grown melancholy, lost all interest in dancing and kept himself to himself. If she was a human being, they speculated, she could only be the daughter of the richest king of the world, possibly from the land of Kungla.

Cinderella's heart leaped with joy. Therefore, to hear more of it, she spent more time than necessary in dressing her stepsisters, and didn't mind their scoldings and curses. All day she kept recalling again and again the ball and the prince who had taken a liking to her.

When the stepsisters left for the ball the second night Cinderella stayed at home. She decided not to appeal to the rowan-tree again, but to trust Providence. The stepsisters were back well before midnight: the prince had been spiritless and melancholy. He hadn't felt like dancing, but had gazed wistfully at the door, expecting the maiden of the previous night to turn up. Therefore the king apologized that his son was ailing and cancelled the ball of the third night altogether.

We have omitted to mention one detail: Cinderella had lost one of her golden slippers on the threshold when fleeing from the ballroom at the last moment. The next morning the prince found the slipper and hoped to track the girl with it. He yearned after the girl day and night. He would rather have died than lived without her. But how was he to find her? A few days later, the prince proclaimed publicly that he intended to marry the maiden whose foot fitted exactly in the lost golden slipper. The announcement encouraged all young girls to try their luck and see if their feet might promote them to the honourable position of the prince's wife.

The smart golden slipper was displayed on a silk cushion in one of the most festive halls of the king's palace. The young ladies of high and low birth were led in one by one to try it on. Yet the shoe was too long for some, too short or too tight for others and fitted nobody. Cinderella's stepsisters, too, went to try their luck. They believed they had small feet that they could fit even in the blossom of the monk's hood. They pulled and tugged at the golden slipper, trying to push their feet into it, but all in vain. The younger stepsister said acidly, "It's a fool's slipper, made out of spite. Nobody can wear it." This statement was to be disproved in a few minutes.

To their great surprise and dismay the door opened suddenly and in stepped Cinderella in her everyday dusty tattered rags. They shouted angrily that the dirty scarecrow should be thrown out immediately, but before anyone could move Cinderella had slipped her foot into the slipper, and it was a perfect fit. The people in the hall had not yet recovered from their surprise when something more miraculous happened. The hall filled with a thick fog, so that they could not discern anything beyond an arm's length. Suddenly there shone the tiny figure of the little witch through the fog. She touched Cinderella with her golden wand, and changed her into the charming maiden of the first night of the ball. The prince held out his hands to the girl of his dreams, embraced her joyfully and said, "God created this girl to be my wife."

The little witch endowed Cinderella with such a rich dowry that it took a train of carts to haul it to the palace. The wedding was celebrated with great splendour for a whole month.

Thus the poor orphan became the wife of a king's son. Her stepsisters were bursting with envy that Cinderella whom they had treated worse than their dog had risen to such a high position. But Cinderella's pious heart did not desire revenge. She forgave them their wrong-doings and even helped them when after her father-in-law's death she became queen.

Although she is long dead now, she is remembered with love by the people. She is reputed to have been the kindest and most beautiful queen who ever lived.

Jason Ladock

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