Snow White and the Evil Queen

A great castle with turrets so towering shelled the skies in a country covered in the glittering mists of the Enchanted Forest. A queen whose beauty was known throughout all the kingdoms dominated this magical kingdom, but her temper was known as poor.

Malvera, the queen, possessed a talking mirror, a supernatural item that never softened the truth. Every morning, she would walk over her marble floor, check in the mirror, and ask, “Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?”

And the mirror also said, “You are, my Queen,” for years.

But one clear morning, the mirror stopped as blue jays sang outside, and the castle cats were entwined in yarn. “Snow White is the fairest of them all,” it murmured.

The emerald eyes of Malvera flashed. Snow White, then? That freckled youngster with chipped nail paint and twisted curls?

Snow White, then, was not your typical princess. She was audacious, inquisitive, and constantly had dirt on her knees from woodland exploration. She could devour a stack of blueberry pancakes in one sitting, juggle apples, and spin tales that would make dragons laugh.

She was kind even if she wasn’t flawless. And sort of beauty like that? It illuminated more brilliantly than any crown.

Malvern, on the other hand, found it intolerable to be second-best. She called her royal hunter with a theatrical swoosh of her velvet cape. “Take Snow White deep into the Enchanted Forest. And… you know, make sure she doesn’t come back.”

The hunter, whose real name was Doug (but everyone called him “Bear” for his fluffy beard and soft heart), took Snow White into the woods. But when it came time to hurt her, he could not do it.

Bear remarked, scratching his head, “Kid, you’re too cool for this.” Go. Attend. Also, be alert for deadly mushrooms and too-friendly squirrels.

Wide-eyed and uncertain, Snow White hurried farther into the forest while her scarlet boots pounded across the underbrush.

She stumbled into a small cottage with a twisted chimney billowing pink smoke after hours of meandering among shining mushrooms and chatting towels.

Inside lived seven quirky dwarfs. First, there was Snappy, a sarcastic cook with a love for spicy chili and a no-nonsense attitude in the kitchen. Then came Pickle, the jokester of the bunch, always sporting socks with tacos and cracking puns like a stand-up comedian on open mic night.

Grumbles wasn’t grumpy. He hated mornings passionately and needed three mugs of cocoa before speaking. Sketch was the artistic soul, forever doodling unicorns and moonlit castles on every scrap of parchment he could find.

Gadget was their go-to inventor, known for creating quirky contraptions like a toaster that could sing lullabies. Bliss believed deeply in good vibes, danced with butterflies, and kept a collection of rainbow-colored crystals on every windowsill. Last but not least was Hiccup, who hiccupped every time he got nervous, which was, well, all the time.

They didn’t just let anyone crash at their cottage. But she was in when Snow White made them pancakes and helped tidy up their mushroom garden.

Meanwhile, back at the castle, Queen Malvera discovered that Snow White was alive. “I should’ve known Bear would chicken out,” she growled.

So, she brewed up some dark magic with a sprinkle of snake whiskers and a dash of bad intentions and disguised herself as a sweet old vendor. Her plan? Trick Snow White into taking a bite of a cursed caramel apple.

She found the cottage, knocked, and in her best sweet-grandma voice, said, “Fresh caramel apples! One bite, and your dreams come true!”

Snow White, never one to turn down snacks, reached for it.

But just as she was about to bite, Pickle popped up, sniffed it, and yelled, “Whoa, that thing smells like regret and moldy socks!”

Bliss gasped. “That’s not just a bad vibe. It’s a cursed snack!”

The queen panicked and dropped her disguise in a puff of glittery smoke.

Snow White didn’t scream or faint. She stood tall and said, “You went through all that just because I’m kind?”

Malvera blinked. “You’re supposed to be afraid!”

Snow White shook her head. “Nah. I’ve faced scarier things like Snappy’s five-alarm chili.”

She then did something nobody predicted.

She dug out a mirror from her purse. “This here.” See yourself not your face but rather what you have evolved into.

Malvera peered in. And for the first time, she saw not her beauty but her bitterness. It clung to her like fog.

She dropped to her knees. “What have I done?”

Snow White stepped forward. “You could be beautiful again. But not from a spell or a mirror. You’ve gotta be kind. Help others. … volunteer at the dragon shelter or teach kids how to garden.”

The dwarfs nodded. Hiccup hiccupped in agreement.

Malvera’s heart, cold and thorny, softened just a little.

Over time, the queen did change. She opened a soup kitchen (her leek stew was legendary), and the talking mirror? It finally said, “You’re the fairest because you’re the kindest.”

As for Snow White, she stayed in the forest, running a storytelling club and teaching woodland critters how to dance the cha-cha.

She didn’t need a crown, just a good story, great friends, or maybe a taco-themed sock.

Do Snow White and the Evil Queen inspire you to believe that kindness is the real magic?

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