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Because, when I lived with my cruel stepmother and her mean daughters, they made me their servant and I had to clean the whole house and do all the laundry.

But my most important job was to keep the cooking fire in the hearth burning bright; stacking up new wood and sweeping out the dead ashes. So, they called me Cinderella.

It wasn't a very clean or exciting chore to do, but I learned to see the big circle; how the fire leaves ashes, the ashes feed trees, trees produce wood, wood becomes a fire and the fire again leaves ashes.

I also learned patience, for the job of the ash-girl is nothing, if not waiting, and watching and knowing.

But you've probably heard all about me and my Step-family and the Prince and how I lived "happily-ever-after."

I guess "happily-ever-after" is what storytellers say when they're tired or they want you to go to sleep, because my story starts where theirs ends - at the castle.

Prince Charming and I were married and had started making plans for our own family. We wanted to have children, so we set the Royal Carpenters to work building cradles and chairs and all the other little furniture we would need for our kids.

Char, which is what I called the Prince, was so excited he threw a big feast for all the Royalty from the nearby Kingdoms.

On the day of the party, the Herald announced every guest as they arrived at our Grand Ballroom. There must have been a hundred Kings and Queens and Dukes, Duchesses, Counts and Countesses.

Every King also brought his own Royal Jester, so there were a dozen silly harlequins and punchinellos and motley fools loose in the crowd.

We all laughed and sang and danced and cheered, each of us full of love and happiness for our friends and family. And we toasted life and beauty until our arms grew tired.

Just before the party ended, the Herald announced some late guests.

"Hear ye, hear ye, Princess Cinderella's Mother and Sisters!" he called out.

I couldn't believe it! There in the doorway were the three people I never wanted to see again.

My Step-mother looked more angry than I had ever seen her when none of the Royalty came to the door to greet her, so she pinched the Herald's nose, and whispered something in his ear!

"HEAR YE! HEAR YE!" he cried out, "THE QUEEN MOTHER HAS ARRIVED!"

But still, no one came forward to welcome them. I was so embarrassed as Char and I walked across the ballroom floor to greet her. She scowled and met us half-way.

My Step-mother screamed, "IS THIS HOW YOU TREAT YOUR LOVING MOTHER? HOW DARE YOU NOT INVITE ME OR YOUR PRETTY SISTERS!"

Char and I were shocked by her rudeness.

Well, let me be very clear about how I felt toward this woman and her daughters.

First, she was not my mother, she was the woman my father married after my real mother died, nothing more.

Second, when my father died, she and her jealous daughters were so cruel and mean to me, I only found comfort in my memories and in tending the hearth fire well.

Third, and most importantly, none of them were beautiful in any way at all.

Beauty comes from the heart and soul and I don't think they had either one.

"I am the mother of the Princess!" my step-mother shouted, "So, where is my title? Where is my castle and where are my servants?"

I whispered, "Char, I'm so sorry about this. I know you must be embarrassed in front of our guests. Please don't be mad."

He shook his head, smiled and said, "I'm not embarrassed or mad. Of course not. I am sure that every guest in this room has had to listen to some distant relative scream and make a fool of themselves. It's part of being... Royalty."

Then my Prince did something that shocked me. He offered his arm to that horrible woman and led her and her daughters to our table.

"Welcome, fair lady, mother of my wife. Sit you down at our table with your lovely daughters and drink to us a toast of life and love before this, our happy celebration ends." he said, loud enough for all to hear.

Everyone in that room smiled and nodded, approving of this gracious act by my sweet husband. Everyone except me. I was furious!

She sniffed at the punch, wrinkled her nose and cleared her throat with a big "Hurhurm!", then lifted the goblet high and turned to face our guests.

"What's mine is mine!" she screeched, "And I want it now."

Her two dizzy daughters stood up and crowed like birds, "Me too! Me too!" then drank their toast so greedily that streaks of purple punch ran down their chins and dripped into long stains on their silk gowns.

I looked at Char, so angry and embarrassed to be seen with these rude women but, to my surprise, he grinned and shrugged.

"Don't worry," he whispered, "we'll handle this problem later."

And he was partly right, because the problem was handled, but it was much, much later.

The following week was the most confusing time of my life.

Char let my step-mother and step-sisters move into the castle and we argued about it morning and night. It was a big mistake!

Every day they acted more and more like spoiled brats; "Give me this, give me that, I deserve, I need , I want."

It got so bad that Char's worried face finally let me know that he wasn't able to handle the ungrateful women either.

"Cind," he said, "I'm sorry, but I've never met anyone as greedy and selfish and mean as your family."

I held up my hand and made him stop. "I told you, they are not my family. I owe them nothing."

But he smiled sadly and said, "It's not that simple, dear. You see, Royalty is based on families. You have to take the good with the bad. So exiling them or ignoring them or denying that they are your relatives will not do. We must find a better way to solve this problem."

"That's Royalty?" I asked.

Char looked deep in my eyes with love and gentleness and nodded slowly, "That's good Royalty." he said. "Royalty that lasts through the ages."

So I searched for a solution to my problem that showed I deserved a place in his Royal Family.

Well, it must have been a crazy moon that made my step-mother and step-sisters act the way they did the next day.

First, they demanded that our House Steward declare a Royal Cotillion so that the sisters could be introduced to all the young Princes and Dukes and Counts.

Then they ordered the Royal Artist to paint their portraits so they might hang them in our castle's Hall of Ancestors.

Both servants were confused by their rudeness, but figured until they were told to do otherwise by the Prince, they should obey the mother and sisters of the Princess.

When I heard about their rudeness, I was ready to have them thrown in the dungeon. They were messing up my life like they messed it up before.

I sat on the window seat in my bedroom and watched tiny specks of dust floating the sunlight that streamed in. My thoughts were hot with rage.

"I will not allow myself to be angered and embarrassed by these people any longer. I will tell the Prince that he must chose. If he is more concerned with acting like Royalty and says they must stay, I would rather not be here at all.

But Char was away on a hunting trip with the Duke of Olay, preferring to stay at the Lodge by the Lake rather than have to listen to the jealous bickering in his own castle.

"I wish this hadn't happened," I said, "I wish..."

The specks of light dust began to spin like a tiny whirlwind in front of me, growing larger, picking up pieces of lint and thread from my dressing table and fuzz balls from under the bed.

It grew so strong that it pulled the cobwebs from the corners of the room and with a "SNAP", popped into wavy curtain of light that flowed and ran in the shape of a tall woman.

My Fairy Godmother stood before me, a shimmering light dancing over her face and gown.

"You wished, my little one?" she said.

I ran to her and hugged her, thanking her for what she had done for me in the past: my life and love and luck, but she

knew I was troubled and she held my shoulders and looked into my face.

"I know." she said, "I know where the problem lies."

"Please make them disappear!" I cried, with tears burning in my eyes.

Godmother smiled, "Oh, my Dear, you know that problems are not solved that way. I know you wish they were gone, but they need a second chance. So, you must talk to them when the time is right. Then they will understand the folly of their actions."

I wanted to do as she said, but I knew that they would never sit down to talk with me. They were jealous and hated everything about me. So, how could there ever be a second chance?

But Godmother knew what I was thinking.

"Cinderella, leave it to me." she said, "First, you must tell them they look old and tired when they are having their portraits painted. Then mention that the Witch of Cozen Cave can restore their youth. They will leave for two days and when they return, I'm sure you will know exactly when they are truly ready to listen to you."

I trusted my Fairy Godmother with all my heart, for she was a wise woman.

The Royal Artist was pulling out his hair when I walked into the castle's Art Studio. My step-family was fighting like wet cats!

"You made her prettier than me, you buffoon!" one sister yelled.

"I am prettier than you!" the other screamed.

Step-mother threw a glass of wine at the Artist and he ducked just in time to have it miss him and hit the painting.

He bowed and scraped, only looking up from the floor when he thought they might throw something else at him. "I am so sorry, Your Grace!" he said, "Please forgive me, dear ladies, please allow me to try again!"

But the sisters heaved a bowl of fruit at the poor man and he had to hide under his easel.

I said to them, "Of course the painter is having a problem, dear step-mother, you look old and tired."

She snarled, "What would you know about anything! If it wasn't for me and my daughters you would still be dirty and lonely and on your knees!"

I held my anger so that Godmother's plan might work and said, "I think I know how to get the portrait you truly desire."

They were interested, so I leaned closer and whispered, "The Witch of Cozen Cave. I have heard tell she can cast a spell of youth and beauty, for a price."

Well, step-mother smiled the first real smile I had ever seen on her face -- it was a horrible sight! -- and she and her daughters ran out the door.

And we didn't see hide nor hair of them for two glorious days.

I found out later that they went straight to the Witch's Cave and paid her a fortune to cast a spell on them that would make them young and pretty.

The Witch took threads from her cloak and braided them into a cord that she tied around their necks while chanting:

Who would be prettiest of you three?

Each woman called out, "ME, ME, ME!"

And a vioce spoke from a nearby tree,

It rumbled low, "So mote it be!"

The Witch cried out, "Now, the youngest of three?"

And again they shouted, "ME, ME, ME!"

`Til a Blackbird swooped to hear their plea,

It chirped and said, "So mote it be!"

Then the crone bent low, to question all three,

"Who has the gold to settle my fee?"

Each woman paid, howling, "ME! ME! ME!"

Spoke the jingling coins: "So mote it be!"

Now they were younger and prettier than they ever could have imagined.

The Witch warned them, that whenever they yelled the word "ME!" again, the spell would re-ignite and become even stronger.

I'm sure that my step-mother and step-sisters were too busy admiring their newfound youth and beauty to realize what they were agreeing to.

For in magic, you must know exactly what you want and be wise in how you call for it, because what you ask for is exactly what you will get.

I was having lunch in the garden with Char and the Duke of Olay planning for the birth of our baby with the House Steward.

Suddenly we heard laughter and giggling and I turned to see a most incredible sight.

There was my step-mother, looking no more than eighteen years old. And she was almost pretty!

Right behind her skipped her daughters, now only sixteen years old and, amazingly enough, more good-looking than I could have ever imagined.

They ignored Char and me and the Duke and walked right up to the House Steward.

"I command you to proclaim a Cotillion for myself and my girls for now we are the prettiest in the Kingdom." said my step-mother, "Get to it immediately! I command you!"

I had told Char about the spell and what my Fairy God-mother had said when he arrived home from the hunt, so he told the Steward to wait in the castle and said, "Good My lady, we are pleased to find you looking so... well. Have you chanced upon a Fountain of Youth during your absence?"

"No, no," she said, "nothing as boring or namby-pamby as that you silly boy. Or should I say, old man? Now that we are much younger and prettier than any of you!"

"Younger!" shouted one sister.

"Prettier!" shouted the other.

Char and I looked at each other and the Duke, who had no time for such brainless vanity, looked up to the sky and shook his head.

One of the sisters picked a daisy from the garden and put it in her hair. In a flash, the other sister grabbed it and stuck it in her hair. They started to fight and their teen-age mother jumped in and they rolled around on the ground screaming and yelling.

Then it happened!

So frightening!

Step-mother screamed, "That's mine! Give it to ME!"

And we heard a loud "POP" as her hair stood out from her head, each strand glowing like a sparkler. They sizzled and snapped covering her face and shoulders with a thick green cloud of smelly smoke.

Then there was another "POP" and it seemed like her body got a little smaller. When the smoke cleared, we saw that the woman was no longer eighteen years old. Now, she looked fourteen!

You might think that this would make the sisters stop fighting, but they pulled at the flower and yelled, " Give it to ME! No, ME! No, ME!

POP, POP, POP, SIZZLE, SMOKE, POOF! and it happened to all three of them. In the hazy smoke in front of us were two eight year-old sisters and their ten year-old mother.

The Duke looked back down at them in amazement and held his nose.

"Stop!" I shouted, but they still wouldn't listen to me.

A sister screamed, "THE FLOWER IS MINE! GIVE IT TO ME!"

POP!

"No, ME!" said the other.

POP!

"No, ME!"

POP!

And then it was all over.

No more "Me-me-me", no more "POP-POP-POP", because the three little babies on the ground in front of us didn't know how to talk! They were just too little.

Char and I looked at each other and wondered what in the world we would do with three little step-children.

But our problem was solved by the Duke!

"They are so cute!" he said, picking them up and cradling them in his arms. "The Duchess and I have always wanted to have children, but we were never able to."

"You like them?" I asked, amazed that he liked them.

"Of course!" he said, "These babies have their whole lives ahead of them to learn how to grow up to be wonderful people. I want to help them start from the beginning!"

The little ones needed help doing everything, but somehow it seemed easier now that the brats were too busy playing with their toes to yell and scream.

And Char and I knew that the Duke and Duchess would be wonderful parents, so we sent the babies to live with them at the Lodge at Lake Olay.

Well, all worked out just as my Fairy-Godmother had said it would. The Duke brought in Tutors to teach them about the world, the history of their new family and the duties that were expected of them. Then he called for the Masters and Mistresses from the Royal School of Charm and Manners, who taught them how to behave.

Char and I became the babies' god-parents and told them bedtime stories and folktales about our people.

When the Royal Carpenters finished our cradle, crib and tiny chairs, we sent them as birthday presents. We hoped that they might grow up kind and graceful, with manners and culture, and maybe, just maybe, just a little less hateful.

As the years passed they grew up fair and strong, but not what you would call pretty. They were beautiful.

Because true beauty is in the heart and soul -- which they now had -- in a Royal Family that will last through the ages.

- end -