I spent the last few years telling the story of Cinderella to my granddaughters at bedtime when I stayed with them. A few weeks ago, my daughter asked me to record the story so the girls could have it to listen to it when I wasn’t there. I was excited to do so, and told my husband that I was going upstairs to record it. He asked me if the book was upstairs, and I told him that I knew the story by heart.

When I listened back to the recording, I realized that the version of Cinderella that I told was different from the original. I started the story when Cinderella was already living with her step family, because one of my granddaughters thought it was too sad when her parents died. I added a spa day with facials and mani pedis to the stepsisters preparation for the ball. An afterparty for the stepsisters to explain how Cinderella walked all the way home after midnight, but made it home before them. And a heartfelt apology from the steps for the way Cinderella was treated when they realized that she would be queen of the land someday. Met with forgiveness, but accountability.

I guess my version was modernized by requests and questions from my audience. I’m happy and honored that my granddaughters will always have my voice telling this story not necessarily “by heart”, but more from my heart.