There was once a mother and her daughter in the city square. The mother was obsessed with material beauty. She despised the shoes most women wore, cheap plastic shoes she called them. To her , shoes needed to be pure.
So, she crafted a pair of high heels , purplish - blue , made of steel. She asked the old oak tree that dripped purple liquid to refine it. The tree promised that every human would cherish the beauty of the heels on the person who wore them and it would bring her great riches . But of course , there was a catch , there would be great pain , explained the oak tree.
The mother did not care , the rewards were worth it. Her daughter, meanwhile, a beautiful , soft - spoken woman , crossed an invisible line. She did not know what to do with her life. She dreamed of being a writer , but it all fell flat. She was no good in her chores , but to her mother , she needed beauty. She placed sleeping pills in her daughter's morning soup and placed her feet into the heels.
Her daughter woke immediately . The shoes left like stepping on melted metal , the skin of her soles was fused with the heels , she could never take them off , she could never not be beautiful.
The oak tree was honest , wealth came and so did endless praise. The daughter could not feel her feet for days , the pain resided for months , sleeping in bed was uncomfortable, she felt her soles burning , sweating , and her toes hurting at least once a day , but . . . she was happy , she had purpose , she had wealth.