Ella's great comfort were the letters that Father would send from his travels. The weeks...

Fairy Godmother: [narrating] Ella's great comfort were the letters that Father would send from his travels. The weeks away lengthened to months, but every day would bring his thoughts from some distant part. Until late one afternoon... Cinderella: [answering the front door] Farmer John? Farmer: Miss Ella. It's your father, miss. He took ill on the road. He's passed on, miss. He's gone. To the end, he spoke only of you, miss. And your mother. I was to give you this. [he gives her a thin tree branch] Anastasia: But what about my lace? Drizella: My parasol? Lady Tremaine: Can't you see? None of that matters. We're ruined. How will we live? Cinderella: [crying, turning back to Farmer John] Thank you. It must have been very difficult for you.