There was once a little girl,very nice and very pretty,but so poor that she had to go barefooted all summer.And in winter she had to wear thick wooden shoes that chafed her ankles until they were red,oh,as red as could be.
In the middle of the village lived “Old Mother Shoemaker.”She took some old scraps of red cloth and did her best to make them into a little pair of shoes.They were a bit clumsy,but well meant,for she intended to give them to the little girl.Karen was the little girl's name.
The first time Karen wore her new red shoes was on the very day when her mother was buried.Of course,they were not right for mourning,but they were all she had,so she put them on and walked barelegged after the plain wicker coffin.
Just then a large old carriage came by,with a large old lady inside it.She looked at the little girl and took pity upon her.And she went to the parson and said:“Give the little girl to me,and I shall take good care of her.”
Karen was sure that this happened because she wore red shoes,but the old lady said the shoes were hideous,and ordered them burned.Karen was given proper new clothes.She was taught to read,and she was taught to sew.People said she was pretty,but her mirror told her,“You are more than pretty.You are beautiful.”
It happened that the Queen came traveling through the country with her little daughter,who was a Princess.Karen went with all the people who flocked to see them at the castle.The little Princess,all dressed in white,came to the window to let them admire her.She didn't wear a train,and she didn't wear a gold crown,but she did wear a pair of splendid red morocco shoes.Of course,they were much nicer than the ones “Old Mother Shoemaker”had put together for little Karen,but there's nothing in the world like a pair of red shoes!
When Karen was old enough to be confirmed,new clothes were made for her,and she was to have new shoes.They went to the house of a thriving shoemaker,to have him take the measure of her little feet.In his shop were big glass cases,filled with the prettiest shoes and the shiniest boots.They looked most attractive but,as the old lady did not see very well,they did not attract her.Among the shoes there was a pair of red leather ones which were just like those the Princess had worn.How perfect they were!The shoemaker said he had made them for the daughter of a count,but that they did not quite fit her.
“They must be patent leather to shine so,”said the old lady.
“Yes,indeed they shine,”said Karen.As the shoes fitted Karen,the old lady bought them,but she had no idea they were red.If she had known that,she would never have let Karen wear them to confirmation,which is just what Karen did.
Every eye was turned toward her feet.When she walked up the aisle to the chancel of the church,it seemed to her as if even those portraits of bygone ministers and their wives,in starched ruffs and long black gowns—even they fixed their eyes upon her red shoes.She could think of nothing else,even when the pastor laid his hands upon her head and spoke of her holy baptism,and her covenant with God,and her duty as a Christian.The solemn organ rolled,the children sang sweetly,and the old choir leader sang too,but Karen thought of nothing except her red shoes.
Before the afternoon was over,the old lady had heard from everyone in the parish that the shoes were red.She told Karen it was naughty to wear red shoes to church.Highly improper!In the future she was always to wear black shoes to church,even though they were her old ones.
Next Sunday there was holy communion.Karen looked at her black shoes.She looked at her red ones.She kept looking at her red ones until she put them on.
It was a fair,sunny day.Karen and the old lady took the path through the cornfield,where it was rather dusty.At the church door they met an old soldier,who stood with a crutch and wore a long,curious beard.It was more reddish than white.In fact it was quite red.He bowed down to the ground,and asked the old lady if he might dust her shoes.Karen put out her little foot too.
“Oh,what beautiful shoes for dancing,”the soldier said.“Never come off when you dance,”he told the shoes,as he tapped the sole of each of them with his hand.
The old lady gave the soldier a penny,and went on into the church with Karen.All the people there stared at Karen's red shoes,and all the portraits stared too.When Karen knelt at the altar rail,and even when the chalice came to her lips,she could think only of her red shoes.It was as if they kept floating around in the chalice,and she forgot to sing the psalm.She forgot to say the Lord's Prayer.
Then church was over,and the old lady got into her carriage.Karen was lifting her foot to step in after her when the old soldier said,“Oh,what beautiful shoes for dancing!”
Karen couldn't resist taking a few dancing steps,and once she began her feet kept on dancing.It was as if the shoes controlled her.She danced round the corner of the church-she simply could not help it.The coachman had to run after her,catch her,and lift her into the carriage.But even there her feet went on dancing so that she gave the good old lady a terrible kicking.Only when she took her shoes off did her legs quiet down.When they got home the shoes were put away in a cupboard,but Karen would still go and look at them.
