Once upon a time, there was a gentleman who married a proud and unkind woman. She had two daughters of her own who were just like her — vain, selfish, and cruel.

The gentleman had a daughter too, from his first wife. She was gentle and good, and she was beautiful, which made her stepsisters dislike her even more.

They gave her the hardest chores in the house. She scrubbed the floors. She washed the dishes. She carried the firewood. At night, when her work was done, she had no bed — she slept by the fireplace, among the cinders and ashes.

Because of this, her stepsisters called her Cinderella.

One day, an invitation arrived from the palace. The prince was holding a grand ball, and every young lady in the kingdom was invited.

The stepsisters were thrilled. They spent days choosing their finest gowns, fixing their hair, and admiring themselves in the mirror. Cinderella helped them get ready, fastening their buttons and tying their ribbons.

"Cinderella, wouldn't you love to go to the ball?" one stepsister teased.

"A girl covered in cinders, at a royal ball? How everyone would laugh!"

When the stepsisters left for the palace, Cinderella sat alone by the fireplace and cried.

Then, all at once, the room filled with a soft, sparkling light. Standing before her was her fairy godmother, a kind old woman with a warm smile and a wand that glittered like starlight.

"Why are you crying, child?"

"I wish — I wish I could go to the ball," whispered Cinderella.

"And so you shall," said the fairy godmother.

She told Cinderella to fetch a pumpkin from the garden. With one touch of her wand, the pumpkin swelled and stretched into a gleaming golden coach. She turned six mice into six prancing horses, a rat into a coachman with splendid whiskers, and two lizards into footmen in smart green uniforms.

Then the fairy godmother touched Cinderella's ragged dress, and it transformed into the most beautiful gown anyone had ever seen — silver and gold, sparkling with jewels. On her feet appeared a pair of tiny glass slippers, as clear and delicate as dewdrops.

Cinderella could barely speak. She looked down at herself and couldn't believe what she saw.

"Now go," said the fairy godmother. "But remember — the magic will end at midnight. When the clock strikes twelve, everything will change back to what it was before. You must leave the ball before then."

Cinderella promised, and off she rode in her golden coach.

When she arrived at the palace, everyone stopped and stared. No one knew who she was. The prince himself came to greet her and asked her to dance. They danced all evening, and the prince never left her side. He thought she was the most wonderful person he had ever met.

Cinderella was so happy that she almost forgot the time. Then — BONG. The great palace clock began to strike midnight.

"I must go!" she gasped. She pulled free from the prince's hand and ran. Down the grand staircase she flew, as fast as her feet could carry her. In her hurry, one of her glass slippers slipped off her foot and was left behind on the steps.

BONG. BONG. The clock kept striking. Cinderella leaped into her coach. Before the last stroke of midnight, the coach was a pumpkin again, the horses were mice, and her beautiful gown was rags. She was just Cinderella, standing barefoot on the road.

But she was smiling. And in her hand, she still held one glass slipper.

The prince had found the other slipper on the stairs. He searched the entire kingdom, asking every young woman to try it on. But the slipper was so small and so delicate that it fit no one.

At last, he came to Cinderella's house. The two stepsisters pushed and squeezed, but the slipper would not go on their feet.

"Is there anyone else in this house?" asked the prince.

"Only Cinderella," they laughed. "But she's just the kitchen girl."

The prince asked her to sit and try the slipper. The stepsisters scoffed. The stepmother glared. But the glass slipper slid onto Cinderella's foot as easily as a whisper.

Then Cinderella reached into her apron pocket and brought out the other slipper.

The stepsisters' mouths fell open. The prince's eyes went wide. And Cinderella smiled.

She forgave her stepsisters, because she was just that kind. She married the prince, and she was happy at last — not because of the crown or the castle, but because she was finally loved the way she deserved to be.