Many an evening and morning did she rise to the place where she had left the prince. She saw the fruits in the garden ripen till they were gathered, the snow on the tops of the mountains melt away; but she never saw the prince, and therefore she returned home, always more sorrowful than before.
I was eight when Ariel hit the big screen, and I still remember the panicy feeling of knowing the movie was nearly over and expecting Ariel to die and turn into sea foam. Silly eight-year-old me... didn't I know that Disney doesn't kill their animated characters?
Oh wait.. yes they do. I made the mistake of letting Gracie watch the Disney version of The Little Match girl. Uh, yeah... the girl dies. I didn't think she was going to. I really didn't think Disney killed little orphan kids.
But they do. Gracie was devastated and I felt like I deserved the Bad Mom of the Year award, as I watched her just sit there and cry her little eyes out. Whoops. I have yet to introduce her the real story of the little mermaid, despite the annoyance I felt when Gracie said, as she looked at my finished illustration, "That's not the Little Mermaid. Ariel has red hair. And where is Flounder?"
I'm pretty annoyed that my scanner (which hates the color blue) didn't pick up all the lovely blue-violet around miss mermaid. The print is much lovelier in person, than it it on the computer. Trust me.
Thanks, Muse. You rock.