Cinderella Stories

I have always loved fairy tales. My mom and I probably worked our way through almost every variation of Cinderella in the library system when I was a kid. (Maybe that means I can blame her for my unhealthy love of footwear). My favorite version of the story, however, is a movie. The 1997 Rodgers and Hammerstein version with Brandy and Whitney Houston, to be exact. The costumes are bright and colorful, the cast is multiracial and diverse, and Bernadette Peters and Whoopi Goldberg are both in it. What more could anyone possibly need? Oh! And the whole thing is a musical. I kept watching our illegal VHS of it until my dog, Piano chewed on it a few years ago.
Over the weekend, my roommate Juneau admitted that she had never seen the film all the way through, so we illegally streamed it. Our illegal actions nonwithstanding, the movie was as magical as I remembered. It made me think about the ease of childhood, how I never wondered how a black queen and white king could possibly have produced a Filipino child. All I saw was magic. It tickles me that this still holds true.
Cinderella is a tale quite nearly as old as time. And, we could all use a little more magic, right?
EG