What is a fairy tale ending?

The classical author of fairy tales, Hans Christian Anderson, frequently refuted the standard “fairy tale ending” with more realistic conclusions.
In the “Emperor’s New Suit,” traveling scam artists zeroed in on the fashion conscious ruler. He believed their blarney that only those fit for their jobs would see the clothing which they created. At the same time, he never considered what the unfit would see if the clothing truly was invisible to them.
Refusing to admit that he himself could see nothing, the emperor fell victim to the con artists’ game. Like a contestant in the bathing suit competition of a beauty pageant, this narcissistic fool assured himself that he wore more than just his underwear.
And like bathing suit clad contestants, it took only one little boy to look and declare “He has nothing on.”
Ignoring the truth whispered around him, the emperor sniffed, stood even taller and marched on, refusing to hear the honest child’s simple observation.
Thirty years ago, our five-year-old looked at one of the other Cub Scout’s mothers wearing a tight-fitting, long sleeved shirt with tiny peek-a-boo loops up the length of each arm and skin-tight slacks with similar, albeit filled-in, loops up the length of each leg. Except for those tiny holes along the outside of each arm, fabric covered her from neck to ankle. Our little boy stared at her in awe and whispered, “She’s practically naked.”
The child had simply declared what the designer wanted to be seen.
The Little Mermaid saw what she wanted: a handsome, young, human prince. She was young, beautiful, elegant of body and voice – and sported a fish’s tail. And like the heroine in too many modern romance novels, she lacked insight.
For her coming of age birthday party, the mermaid sisters swam to the water’s surface in time to view a young prince’s coming of age party. It was love at first sight for the mermaid. Infatuated, sure it was love, she lingered to watch him until a storm descended and destroyed his ship.
The Little Mermaid rejoiced when he joined her in the water – until she remembered he could not live in her world. Then, she swam the unconscious prince to land and left him high, dry and oblivious to his rescuer or her feelings for him.
In a vain attempt to attract the attention of the one she wanted, she traded her talented voice, for human beauty. He never had a clue how much she had sacrificed for him: Not when she washed ashore as a naked, beautiful, speechless, young woman. Nor, when she danced eloquently before him with intense physical agony from the body changes she had made to look physically appealing to him.
He only saw her as entertaining eye candy. As a future king he needed a woman who could converse knowledgeably with visiting dignitaries and manage a palace.
Too late, the Little Mermaid realized she had sacrificed everything for looks and neglected to consider what else a future husband might want in a bride.
It is a notion found today in those who focus on the perfect look, while neglecting to develop their mind, resume or social skills. Too often, sweet young things must lose to a woman with substance, before they realize that not all fairy tales end with “and they lived happily ever after.”
(Joan Hershberger is a reporter at the News-Times. She can be reached at joanh@everybody.org.)