Cinderella's Song

“…and then the colors need to be chosen for the luncheon fundraiser for the Victims of Poisoned Fruit Aid Society. Her Majesty said she thought that lavender and white with yellow flowers would be beautiful, and avoiding decorative waxed fruit is a must of course, but since you are in charge, she said that you could make the final decision. And then, you are hosting the Wildflowering Party on Saturday morning. Invitations need to be sent by courier by tomorrow and the teams have to be chosen…”

Princess Cinderella (or “Ella” as she was known to her friends) sighed and put her head in her hands. She had stopped listening after Maggie, her assistant, had said the phrase “and then” for only the fifth time, knowing that there were plenty more where those came from.

Was it really only one year since she, Ella, had been the shining star of the Prince’s Ball? He had whirled and twirled her in his arms, sweeping her across the ballroom floor (which reminded her that the floor needed to be cleaned and waxed before this year’s ball, which was only a week away). The time seems to have flown by on a breeze of luncheons, hunting parties, dances and balls.

She sighed again, interrupting Maggie abruptly. “Thank you very much. If you would be so kind as to give me the list of things to do, I will take care of them myself. Good day.”

As Ella watched Maggie leave the sitting room, she turned and retreated to the peace of her bedroom. She sat down in front of the mirror and picked up her engraved silver hairbrush. With each stroke, she began to think. How long had it been since she had read a book out by the fountain in the sunshine? When had she last danced in the garden with her friends, the songbirds and the rabbits?

“Ella!” A tiny squeak brought her back from her thoughts and she spun around to see a small mouse clapping her little hands together in excitement.

“Good heavens, Lily! I haven’t seen you in ages! How are you, my friend?” Ella smiled and laid aside her hairbrush. New friends had been hard to make in the castle and she hadn’t had the time to see many of her old friends in recent weeks.

The mouse smiled back at Ella and said, “We’ve all missed your beautiful voice so dreadfully, Ella. Will you sing a song with me?”

“Oh, I would adore it, Lily! What shall we sing? How about ‘The Fields of Clover’? Or maybe ‘Jack of the Morning’?”

Lily shook her tiny head, her ears twitching with excitement. “No, no, no. I want to sing ‘The Ballad of Johnny May’. Is that alright with you?” Ella nodded quickly and cleared her throat.

She opened her mouth and expected a perfect note to emerge. But instead of a sound as clear as the water in the castle’s fountain, they only heard a croaking, a frog-like sound that startled them both. “Oh no!” Ella cried and cleared her throat once more. Another try, but still nothing close to the beautiful sound her voice used to make.

Ella began to sob. “What’s happened to me?” She laid her head on the vanity and cried for everything she’d lost since she moved to the castle—her friends, her voice, her joy.

So it was in this state that her Prince found her a little while later. He rushed to her side. “My darling Ella, whatever is the matter?” Putting his arm around her, he brushed the tears from her face.

“I—can’t--- I ---can’t---um---sing!” She finally got the last word out as the crying took over again. The Prince handed her a monogrammed handkerchief and she discreetly blew her nose into it.

After a few moments, Ella had composed herself enough to turn from the vanity and look directly at the Prince. His concern for her was evident in the way he frowned and searched her face for any sign of what was going on in her mind. “You know I love you, darling, whether or not you can sing. Don’t you know that?”

She nodded. “But it isn’t just the music. I realize that although I worked a lot harder in my stepmother’s house before coming to the castle and marrying you, I always made time to have fun. What’s wrong with me that now I have everything I’ve ever wanted--my true love, a beautiful castle—but I’m not happy?” At the Prince’s continued frowning, she said quickly, “It’s not you, my darling. I love you so very much, it’s just that I need something else to make me truly happy: time to enjoy the flowers and the music and the sunshine and the birds and---well, everything!”

Suddenly the Prince’s face took on a different look. His eyes got wide and he took Ella’s hand. “Come with me, love. I know exactly what you need!”

She let him lead her through the stone hallways of the castle, dodging shocked servants and chambermaids, and even a gaping Maggie who had come to give Ella that list of things to be done. The Prince had never run through the halls so quickly, not even when he was a boy. Whatever could be so important that he had to run now?

The couple emerged into the rose garden in the side courtyard. The sky was not the perfect blue that was normal for this time of the year, but storm clouds blocked out the sun. A gardener was busy pruning rosebushes, hoping to finish before the rain started. The Prince hurried to him, whispered something and Ella watched as the gardener ran inside the castle like Red Riding Hood’s wolf himself was in pursuit.

The Prince walked back over to Ella and they sat down on the stone bench in front of her favorite pink roses. “What is it?” she asked putting her hands on his arm excitedly. “Where did the gardener go? What’s going on?” The Prince smiled at her, but just shook his head. He put a finger on her lips briefly as a way of keeping her quiet, then settled back to wait.

There was no way she could sit still, she was so excited. It seemed forever until the gardener returned with a small wooden box. He handed it to the Prince, who inclined his head, saying, “Thank you very much.” The Prince turned to Ella. “You reminded me, darling, how long it had been since I played my pipe. I used to love coming out into the garden and sitting with my back against that oak tree way over there, and playing songs for hours.” He lowered his eyes, almost shyly and added, “Even if you can’t sing, we can still enjoy the music.” It was a question, sort of, a hoping that it would be enough to please her.

She jumped up a little with an excited, “Yes!” and then stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He proceeded to take the pipe out of its case, wipe it down with a cloth and lick his lips. He put the pipe into position, took a deep breath and blew. Squeeeeaaak! Ella cringed a little, but she had to admit it wasn’t any worse than her own attempt at singing earlier, so instead she smiled at him encouragingly.

“Any requests?” he asked as her moved his fingers over the holes, holding the pipe with just his thumbs.

“I tried to sing ‘The Ballad of Johnny May’ this morning. Can you play that?”

Instead of answering, he placed the pipe between his lips and started up the simple melody that children in the kingdom learned to sing in their cradles. Her eyes widened, she smiled and declared, “It’s perfect!”

In response, she began to clap in rhythm to the music and started to dance. She was having so much fun that she couldn’t help singing along when the chorus came by. And surprisingly, the voice that she’d thought she’d lost had returned, as clear and beautiful as before.

Neither of them noticed that Ella’s mouse friend Lily, several rabbits and a host of songbirds had joined them. Servants stood all around the courtyard and laughed and clapped, but Ella and the Prince didn’t see them either. And when one raindrop from the storm clouds above turned into a whole rain shower, they continued singing and dancing.

Ella learned a beautiful lesson that day: when she found her happiness in herself and the people she loved, even the rain couldn’t hide the sunshine.