In her heart of hearts, its a painful and lonely truth. When she thinks of them, and those thoughts are few and seldom and not expected long into the future, there are no memories of them as kind, or good, or pleasant.

They, the two wicked step-sisters to her otherwise Princess life, were every bit, wicked, mean, and cruel.

Understandably so. What else could be expected from them, when their mama tossed them out like so much refuse, because their mama’s man didn’t want them. Whiskey and beer and him and for them to go away, far, far, away, were the top four of their mama’s Want List.

Their da-da didn’t want them either. Not really, he didn’t want to pay child support either, annnnnd he didn’t want his community of peers to know that he didn’t want them.

His brilliant solution to that dilemma? Woo and then marry a gullible and good woman to raise them. That she was an heiress of independent means was a bonus for a short while.

Consistently and patiently they were shown other ways, ways of Love and more love, kindnesses, patience, comfort and assurances and right conducts.

But, their choices were to grow through their years to continue with their mean, cruel, ways, as they saw their dada demonstrate the same choices.

Time passed and all these horrors of humanity went away, to ruin, to loneliness, and to deep decline.

But not for lack of opportunity, or example, or, or, or.

A sadness really. For them. Of them. Their childhoods forever lost. No fond memories of them, for them.