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I'm sure you have all heard
the story of Cinderella. You know the beautiful girl with the two mean step-sisters,
and wicked step-mother. Well you already know the ending, the beautiful girl
marries the handsome prince, and they live happily ever after. Well that was
the fairy tale, this is the real story.
I am not related to Mickey, Minnie, or Mighty, (even though there is a small resemblance to that super-hero Mighty mouse). I live in the attic in Cinderella's house. You might say Cindy and I were roommates.
When she was small, and her father was alive, we shared a beautiful room downstairs. But after her father died, she was put in the attic. I naturally followed, because I knew she would need my company. And need me she did.
At first, she thought of me only as a common ordinary mouse. Night after night she would throw me crumbs. (I thought she was very kind). Then one night, after her step-mother locked the door, she began to cry. I climbed up on Cindy's lap. She talked to me and gave me my name. I thought at the time it was a nerdy name, "Oscar", but I am used to it now. I even kind-of like it.
Everyday I watched Cindy work sooo hard. Finally one day, quite by accident, I found a way to help her. You see, her step-sisters were ordering her around, and they made her cry. Cindy cried a lot. ( I never knew a girl could hold so much water!.) Anyway, I ran to Cindy and they saw me.
Boy, you should have seen them clear the room!. Faster than a speeding bullet-- they almost broke their necks as they ran screaming from the room. You should have heard them! "Eeeek... a Mouse!","Mother!!", "Help!!!". Cindy and I laughed so hard. It was a really good moment.
Then there was the time when I hid on a plate of food that was meant for Cindy's step-mother. When she saw me, first she fainted, then she had hysterics for three days!. Three days of peace!, that was really nice!.
The only other person who was not afraid of me was Esmerelda. She was Cindy's fairy God-Mother. We called her Essie for short. She just popped up on the day of the big ball.
Poor Cindy had run herself ragged waiting on those step-sisters, trying to do the impossible, and make them.. not beautiful..but just presentable. I mean they were sooo ugly... it wasn't skin deep, it was all the way to the bone!.
Anyway, Cindy was talking to me in the garden, when this strange looking woman walked through the gate. Most people think she magically appeared in a beautiful white light, but she didn't.
She just walked in the yard with a brown Foodtown shopping bag in her hand. I really thought she was here for a hand-out.
Cindy must have thought the same thing, because she offered her a glass of milk and some cookies. She didn't look much like a fairy God-mother, either. Her dress was torn, her shoes had holes, and her hair... well, let's just say I've seen a better hair-do on a horse I used to know.
I mean, this fairy God-mother looked like she needed a fairy God-mother.
I was about to say something like "Hit the road", when Essie asked Cindy why she was not preparing to go to the ball. Cindy told her she had no clothes or transportation.
Well!, faster than you could say " the rat ate the cheese", the old woman reaches into her bag and pulls out the most beautiful blue ball gown you have ever seen!. It was royal blue, with little white stars, and it was just Cindy's size!.
Then, she reached in her bag again and pulled out a white evening bag, a silver crown, and the famous glass slippers. ( I had to turn my head while she provided the unmentionables.)
Then she told Cindy to hop to it, and go change her clothes, while she sees what can be done about the transportation. I told her to call a cab, but she said "One does not arrive at a Kings palace in a cab or a rent-a car!".
Anyway, while I'm looking around for something to use, the old girl goes in the bag again, and pulls out a small coach. It was just about my size.
She put it on the ground, and darned if the thing didn't begin to grow!. I ran for cover. When the coach finally stopped growing, it was just right for Cindy. The wonders of modern science!
Right then Essie called me, and.. like a dumb-dumb, I came. Before I knew what hit me, I had four hoofs and a tail. Seeing my alarm, Essie assured me it was only temporary. I didn't mind a little sacrifice for the cause (but I hate oats!).
By this time Cindy appeared, and she was looking hot !. (I even tried to whistle, but it came out a whinny). Cindy got into the coach and then we all realized the old girl had forgotten one thing... a driver.
If you ask me, we would have saved a lot of time if she had just made him a Prince instead. They're always doing that in other fairy tales, but noooooo, we had to do things the hard way.
||Cindy was a smash at the ball. The Prince was totally captivated.|
At midnight, they were going to get a cold drink of lemonade, when Cindy's dress started to come apart.
Well!, it didn't take a genius to figure out that she'd better get out of there. So she took off, with the Prince on her trail. .
Fortunately he was clumsy, and he tripped. That gave Cindy just enough time to jump into the coach and leave the Palace grounds. About half-way home the coach shrank so small, that Cindy had to get out and walk. It was then when she realized she had lost a shoe. Hobbling home on one shoe is no joke!.
All night long, Cindy talked about the Prince, the ball, and the great time she had. It was like her tongue got stuck by a phonograph needle. Essie finally gave up and left about 4:30 a.m., mumbling something about creating a monster. Cindy wore herself out around 6:00 am. It was a good thing the "steps" slept late that morning, or Cindy wouldn't have had any sleep at all!.
Later that afternoon, the word came through the cheese-vine. The Prince would begin a search for the love of his life tomorrow. He had fallen in love at the ball last night, with a young lady he knew only by a slipper she left behind.
I was so excited to hear this news, I immediately went to tell Cindy. I must say she took the news rather well. With just a "Oh, that's nice to hear", she went back to her work. (I was expecting at least one jump for joy!)
The next day, the Prince came to our house and the "steps", (including their mother!), all tried to get their size 10 feet into this size 4 slipper. It's a wonder the poor slipper didn't break!. Cindy was locked in the garden and had no chance to try on the slipper.
That ...is when I saved the day.
As the Prince entered his coach, I ran under the horses hoofs. The stupid beasts were so frightened of a little mouse, they ran straight through the garden gate, nearly trampling Cindy in the process. It's a good thing that girl is light on her feet!.
The Prince was so apologetic it took him at least ten minutes before he realized this girl had not tried on the slipper. Well... we all know the end. She tried it on, it fit like a glove, and they lived happily ever after.
So the next time you hear the story of Cinderella, remember you heard the real story here first...from...
Courtesy of Bedtime Story
About the Author:
Yvonne Augustin is a writer by profession but she has taught school for twenty five years because, as she puts it, her children like to eat. Yvonne lives on Long Island in the State of Constant Confusion.
She tells us she is "old enough to remember Ike, and young enough to enjoy her daughter playing (AAU) basketball".
Time spent with her family and the word of God she says, is what she values most. Yvonne says she writes because it gives her great inner pleasure, and that perhaps one day, her words will enhance the world-- when the world is wise enough to discover her.
Yvonne teaches Middle School Vocal music in Queens, New York. She also plays piano and organ for a Sunday school and church on Long Island, and in Queens, New York. You'll find Yvonne listed in "Who's Who Among America's Teachers. 4th edition, volume 1, 1996".
You may contact Yvonne Augustin at Scribe312@aol.com
Update 2012: Retired and loving life with my wonderful husband, two adult children and two grandchildren. Working on a new/old project, a legacy for my grandchildren. Taking one day at a time.
Yvonne Augustin has other tales
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