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    Once upon a time, a wealthy man 

and his wife lived in a large mansion. 

Together, they spent their days happy 

and content, but while they never 

spoke of it, they both felt burdened 

without child. Eventually, unexpected 

news arrived of a new member to their 

family. This brought great joy as well as 

great despair. After giving birth to the 

child, the wife became gravely ill. She laid 

helpless in her bedroom, lonely, and 

starving, for no one, not even the husband 

dared to enter and risk becoming sick as well.

       The wife would have starved if it wasn’t 

for the generosity of turtle doves. Every 

evening, one of the white birds would glide 

through the stone window and unfold a wing 

covering a loaf of bread and a ration of seeds 

they would find in the forest. The wife, being 

grateful, would pick up the bird and stroke it 

gently, unknowingly giving it the disease and 

furthermore spreading it to more birds.

      “Thank you,” she would softly say,“ for 

your selflessness.” The birds would sing 

happily.

As time passed, the wife became weaker and 

weaker. To shackle her boredom, she used her 

remaining strength to write in a book. The wife 

soon died after a few lengthy entries, but no 

one dared to enter the room, therefore not 

anyone knew of her death. Days took on 

weeks as weeks turned to months. The 

wealthy man had forgotten about his sick wife 

as her body withered away to dust. 

One spring day, a maid unlocked the room to clean. She 

dusted the shelves, made the bed, and opened the 

windows. But, when she began to sweep the floors, she 

discovered a small book on the side of   the bed. It was 

titled Utopia. While opening the book, a piece of paper 

fell on the wooden floors. It was the wife’s will. She 

requested only two things: To be cremated so the 

disease wouldn’t spread to her daughter, and for her 

daughter to renamed Cinderella in memory of her. The 

very next day, the wife was cremated and her ashes 

were buried in a grave beside a garden in the back of 

the mansion. Some birds sang, but not many. They 

were beginning to die off.

Cinderella grew up a maid taking care of her father’s mansion 

while he traveled the world. Life was easy, for the mansion 

wasn’t used by anyone but Cinderella, and the few maids that 

helped her clean. She rarely saw him and it pained her almost as 

much as it pained him to see the resemblance of his wife when 

he looked in Cinderella’s eyes. When they did see each other, 

there wasn’t much to say. Cinderella’s only gift from her father 

was a worn out book titled Utopia that she got when she was 

young at age. She has held it dear to her ever since she got it. 

By the time Cinderella reached her adulthood, the rich man had 

found a new wife. Moving in, she brought two devious step-

daughters, and she, the step-mother, wasn’t very appealing 

herself. Chores were doubled around the mason, and the step-

sisters lived like swine. 

    After the long parting trip, Cinderella’s father returned. He was very grateful 

to see his family waiting for him at his home, but bewildered by Cinderella’s 

presence. She was dressed in wooden shoes and a soot covered dress and apron. 

    “Dear child,” he gasped, “What in the heavens happened to you?” Cinderella 

looked at her stepmother for approval to speak. When she received an ice cold 

glare from her, she bit her tongue and held back her tears and her words. 

    “Ever since you had parted husband,” she spoke convincingly, “she has 

gone almost completely mute. She lives like a filthy animal.” The rich man looked 

at his wife, then to Cinderella.

    “I have come to town to see old friends of mine at the annual carnival. I will 

bring you back a gift for each of you,” he spoke convincingly. “What shall they 

be?”

    The stepsisters begged for fine dresses and exotic jewels. The wife modestly 

asked for him to bring his love. Cinderella only asked for the first twig that 

brushed against the top of his hat. The husband then kissed the foreheads of 

everyone, and parted once again for a day.

The next day he strolled in in a black carriage. The rich man had 

brought gifts for everyone. He gave the stepsisters their dresses and 

jewels and he handed the wife a bottle of perfume. When he gave 

Cinderella a twig from an ash tree, she thanked him and ran outside, 

planting the twig on top of her mother’s grave. It soon grew to a lush 

tree.

The husband parted once again. He was traveling overseas and 

wouldn’t be back for six months. Life returned to normal for Cinderella. 

She cleaned the mansion, she harvested the fields, and she cooked for 

her stepfamily day after day. And now every night before going to the 

fireplace to rest, she would stand beneath the ash tree and talk quietly 

to her mother. She continued this every night until the tree grew ears 

and could listen.

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