Once upon a time there was a little girl, pretty and dainty. But in summer she was obliged to go barefooted because she was poor, and in winter she had to wear large wooden shoes, which made her little instep grow quite red.
In the middle of the village lived an old shoemaker’s wife. She made a pair of little shoes out of some old pieces of red cloth. They were clumsy, but she meant well, for they were intended for the little girl, whose name was Karen.
Karen received the shoes and wore them for the first time on the day of her mother’s funeral. They were not suitable for mourning, but she had no others. Just then a large old carriage came by, and in it sat an old lady who took pity on her. The lady asked the clergyman if she could take care of Karen.
Karen believed this was because of the red shoes, but the old lady thought them hideous and had them burnt. Karen was dressed neatly, taught to read and sew, and people said she was pretty. But the mirror told her, "You are more than pretty—you are beautiful."
One day, the Queen travelled through the country with her little daughter, the princess. All the people streamed towards the castle to see her. The princess wore beautiful red morocco shoes, finer than Karen's cloth ones. "There is really nothing in the world that can be compared to red shoes!" Karen thought.
When Karen was old enough to be confirmed, she went to get new shoes. In the shoemaker's shop, amongst many pretty shoes, stood a pair of beautiful red ones, like the princess's. They fitted her perfectly and were bought, though the old lady, who could not see well, did not know they were red.
At her confirmation, everyone looked at her red shoes. It seemed to Karen that even the stone figures on the monuments had their eyes fixed on them. She could think only of the shoes during the holy ceremony. When the old lady found out, she was furious and forbade Karen from ever wearing red shoes to church again.
The following Sunday was Communion. Karen looked at the black shoes, then at the red ones... and put the red ones on. At the church door, an old soldier with a red beard remarked on her "pretty dancing-shoes." Inside the church, Karen could only think of her red shoes, forgetting to pray. After the service, as she was about to enter the carriage, the soldier's comment made her dance a few steps. She could not stop. Her legs danced on their own, as if the shoes had power over them. They had to take the shoes off to make her stop.
The shoes were put away, but Karen could not stop thinking about them. When the old lady fell ill and Karen was to nurse her, a grand ball was held in town. Karen was invited. She told herself there was no harm in looking at the shoes, then no harm in wearing them, and finally went to the ball in them.
But at the ball, the shoes controlled her. When she wanted to go right, they danced left. They danced her out of the ballroom, down the stairs, through the streets, and out of the town into a dark forest. There, she saw the old soldier with the red beard, who again praised her dancing shoes.
Terrified, she tried to throw the shoes away, but they were stuck fast. She danced on and on, over fields and meadows, day and night, with no rest. She danced past an open church door and saw a stern angel with a sword, who condemned her to dance endlessly in the red shoes as a warning to proud and wicked children.
One morning, she danced past a familiar house where a funeral was taking place. She realized she was forsaken by all and damned by God. Exhausted, torn, and bleeding from dancing over thorns, she came to the executioner's house and begged him to cut off her feet with the red shoes. He did so, and the shoes danced away with her feet into the forest. He gave her wooden feet and crutches.
Believing she had suffered enough, Karen tried to go to church to be seen, but the red shoes danced before her, frightening her away. After a week of sorrow, she tried again boldly, but at the churchyard gate, the shoes appeared once more. Truly repentant, she went to the pastor's house and begged to be taken into service. She worked hard, was thoughtful, and no longer cared for finery.
One Sunday, while alone in her small room reading her hymn-book, she heard the organ from the church and cried to God for help. Suddenly, the sun shone brightly, and the angel appeared before her, now holding a green rose branch instead of a sword. He touched her room, and it transformed. She found herself in the church, sitting with the pastor's family, who welcomed her. Her heart filled with peace, joy, and sunshine until it broke. Her soul flew to Heaven on the sunbeams, and no one ever asked after the Red Shoes again.