Cinderella sat weeping into a cold marble bench. Her stepmother's heart was colder even than this, and harder. It wasn't fair. She had worked so diligently for this, building up eager anticipation all throughout the day, and all she had left was her torn dress and tattered dream. Oh, how she had wished to attend the ball, to see the finery of the noblemen and women, to walk through the grand villa and admire its stunning architecture, to maybe even catch a glimpse of the hero Hercules himself. All she wanted was one evening to pretend she was someone else, one night to hold close to her heart in assurance that one day, things would change. But maybe she hoped in vain.
"Come now child, dry those tears" Cinderella jerked her head up as the marble grew soft beneath her cheek. Sitting before her was a petite woman with snow white hair and a prim, periwinkle dress. The wrinkles folded into her face told of great age, but her sparkling eyes betrayed a spirit as young as Cinderella's.
Cinderella's eyes grew wide with astonishment "Who are you?"
"Why your fairy godmother, of course. Now where did I put my wand?"
"Fairy godmother-?" Cinderella couldn't believe it. Maybe she had cried herself to sleep on that bench over there, and this was a marvelous dream. But her fairy godmother had already turned a pumpkin into a chariot, and mice into horses. Cinderella smiled with delight as a driver and footman joined the entourage.
"Now then, you'll need a dress of course." And suddenly the woman was back at Cinderella's side, peering into her eyes ("what a lovely blue"), taking measurements ("oh my dear girl, you're as slender as a pixie!"), and finally "Bibbidi, Bobbiti, Boo!" Cinderella was garbed in the most elaborate garment she'd ever seen. It was similar to what the noblewomen wore, but was more fitted in the bodice and fuller in the skirt than their draping togas and wraps. The silken fabric ran through her hands like water. Rather than the traditional white, it was a silvery blue color. She felt as if she were wearing woven moonbeams. Delicate glass slippers peeped out from beneath the skirt, while pearl teardrops gleamed from her ears and neck. Her hair had been elegantly swept atop her head with an ivory comb.
"oh, thank you." Cinderella whispered. Those words seeped so shallow, so insufficient to express the depth of her gratitude, but her fairy godmother understood.
"you are very welcome dear, but you must understand, when the clock strikes midnight, all this will vanish, and everything will be as it was."
"I understand, but its more than I ever dreamed…"
"The clock in the garden began to toll, and her fairy godmother exclaimed "Oh my, its getting late! Off with you now!" She ushered Cinderella into the chariot. Kissing her cheek she said "Enjoy the ball, and remember – midnight!"
Then the chariot began to roll away. Cinderella waved at the receding figure of her fairy godmother until she disappeared. Then she turned in excitement to the road ahead of her.