Posts filed under ‘.folktale’
Capturing the Moon
A folktale about the wise men of Helm
Moon in Jewish heritage
© Jewish Heritage Online Magazine, www.jhom.com
The Magic Paintbrush
Leta Bushyhead, Asian Art Museum Storyteller, tells a Chinese folktale inspired by objects in the museum’s collection. Note: The objects in this video are used to enhance this telling of The Magic Paintbrush and were not created by the artists specifically to illustrate this story.
Winning Without Hands
Asian Art Museum Storyteller, Jeff Byers, tells the legend of Bokuden, a famous samurai in the Asian Art Museum’s collection galleries. This video features artworks from the Asian Art Museum’s permanent collection.
Medio Pollito
Medio Pollito is a half-chick with one leg, one wing, one eye, half a comb and half a beak. But he has a whole heart and an adventurous spirit that will carry him all the way to Madrid. How will he get there? One step at a time.
By Dr. Mike Lockett, The Normal Storyteller
By children’s author Rick Walton
The Gingerbread Man
Run, run as fast as you can,
You can’t catch me,
I’m the Gingerbread Man
Also known as The Gingerbread Boy:
Now you shall hear a story that somebody’s great-great-grandmother told a little girl ever so many years ago:
There was once a little old man and a little old woman, who lived in a little old house in the edge of a woods. They would have been a very happy old couple but for one thing — they had no little child, and they wished for one very much. One day, when the little old woman was baking gingerbread, she cut a cake in the shape of a little boy, and put it into the oven.
Presently she went to the oven to see if it was baked. As soon as the oven door was opened, the little gingerbread boy jumped out, and began to run away as fast as he could go.
The little old woman called her husband, and they both ran after him. But they could not catch him. And soon the gingerbread boy came to a barn full of threshers. He called out to them as he went by, saying:
I’ve run away from a little old woman,
A little old man,
And I can run away from you, I can!
Then the barn full of threshers set out to run after him. But, though they ran fast, they could not catch him. And he ran on till he came to a field full of mowers. He called out to them:
I’ve run away from a little old woman,
A little old man,
A barn full of threshers,
And I can run away from you, I can!
Then the mowers began to run after him, but they couldn’t catch him. And he ran on till he came to a cow. He called out to her:
I’ve run away from a little old woman,
A little old man,
A barn full of threshers,
A field full of mowers,
And I can run away from you, I can!
But, though the cow started at once, she couldn’t catch him. And soon he came to a horse. He called out to the horse:
I’ve run away from a little old woman,
A little old man,
A barn full of threshers,
A field full of mowers,
A cow,
And I can run away from you, I can!
But the horse ran, and couldn’t catch him. And he ran till he came across a fox, and to him he called out:
I’ve run away from a little old woman,
A little old man,
A barn full of threshers,
A field full of mowers,
A cow and a horse,
And I can run away from you, I can!
Then the fox set out to run. Now foxes can run very fast, and so the fox soon caught the gingerbread boy and began to eat him up.
Presently the gingerbread boy said, “Oh dear! I’m quarter gone!” And then, “Oh, I’m half gone!” And soon, “I’m three-quarters gone!” And at last, “I’m all gone!” and never spoke again.
The Little Red House with No Doors and No windows and a Star Inside
There was once upon a time a little boy who was tired of all his toys and, tired of all his play. “What shall I do ?” He asked his mother. And his mother, who always knew beautiful things for little boys to do, said, ” You shall go on a journey and find a little red house with no doors and no windows and a star inside.”
This really made the little boy wonder. Usually his mother had good ideas, but his thought that this one was very strange. “Which way shall I go?” He asked his mother. “I don’t know where to find a little red house with no doors and no window .” “Go down the lane past the farmer’s house and over the hill,” said his mother, “and then hurry back as soon as you can and tell me all about your journey.”
So the little boy put on his cap and his jacket and started out. He had not gone very far down the lane when he came to a merry little girl dancing in the sunshine. Her cheeks were like pink blooms petals and she was singing like a robin. “Do you know where I shall find a little red house with no doors and no windows and a star in inside?” asked the little boy. The little girl laughed, “Ask my father, the farmer,” she said. “Perhaps he knows.”
So the little boy went on until he came to the great brown barn were the farmer kept barrel of fat potatoes and baskets of yellow squashes and golden pumpkins. The farmer himself stood in the doorway looking out over the green pastures and yellow grain fields. “Do you know where I shall find a little red house with no doors and no windows and a star inside?” asked the little boy of the farmer. The farmer laughed too. “I lived a great many years and I never saw one.” He chuckled, “But ask Granny who lives at the foot of the hill. She knows how to make molasses, taffy and popcorn balls, and red mitten! Perhaps she can direct you.”
So the little boy went on farther still, until he came to the Granny, sitting in her pretty garden of herbs and marigolds. She was wrinkled as a walnut and as smiling as the sunshine. “Please, Dear Granny,” said the little boy. “Where shall I find a little red house with no doors and no windows and a star inside?”
Granny was knitting a red mitten, and when she heard the little boy’s question, she laughed so cheerily that the wool ball rolled of her lap and down the little pebbly path. “I should like to find that little house myself,” she chuckled. ” I would be warm when the frosty night comes and the starlight would be prettier than a candle. But ask the wind who blows about so much and listens at all the chimneys. Perhaps the wind can direct you.”
So the little boy took off his cap and tipped it politely to the Granny and went on up the hill rather sorrowfully. He wondered if his mother, who usually knew almost everything had perhaps made a mistake. The wind was coming down the hill as the little boy climbed up. As they met, the wind turned about and went along, singing beside the little boy. It whistled in his ear, and pushed him and dropped a pretty leaf into his hand. “I wonder,” thought the little boy, after they had gone along together for awhile, “if the wind could help me find a little red house with no doors and no windows a star inside.”
The wind cannot speak in our words, but it went singing ahead of the little boy until it came to an orchard. There it climbed up in the apple tree and shook the branches. When the little boy climbed up, there at his feet lay a great rosy apple. The little boy picked the apple. It was as much as his two hands could hold. It was red as the sun had been able to paint it, and the thick brown stem stood up as straight as a chimney, and it had no doors and no windows. Was there a star inside?
The little boy called to the wind, “Thank you,” and the wind whistled back, “You’re welcome.” Then the little boy gave the apple to his mother. His mother took a knife (AT THIS POINT , START CUTTING AN APPLE CROSSWISE) and cut the apple through the center. Oh, how wonderful! There inside the apple, lay a star holding brown seeds.
“It is too wonderful to eat without looking at the star, isn’t it?” the little boy said to his mother. “Yes indeed,” answered his mother.
Heard this indian folktale a long time at a library story time, so beautiful…
More riddle stories from Story-Lovers
Flannel Board Story
Twelve Months
A Slavic “Cinderella” and timeless story from Rafe Martin
The original Russian fairy tale was published by Samuil Marshak and made into 2 movies. We found the 1956 film on Mikhail Baryshnikov‘s Stories From My Childhood, Vol. 3.
Baba Dochia
After a romanian folktale about the days of Baba Dochia
Download: .pdf
A long time ago, there was an old woman forgotten by time and kindness, who lived in a cottage of stone, up in the mountains. Baba Dochia was her name.
It was so cold inside her soul that she was always dressed up with nine lambskins.
Only her son Dragobete and the sheep lived with her.
One day, Dragobete marries Nora, a beautiful and kind girl, and brings her home.
But Baba Dochia didn’t like Nora, and made her life hard, giving her odd jobs.
That year it was a cold and long winter. One day, Baba Dochia blames Nora for the bad weather and sends her to bring spring flowers.
Saddened by her new task, Nora left without knowing where to go to find spring flowers in the winter snow.
Wandering in the cold, she meets a kind man, Mărţişor. She tells him her sad story, and Mărţişor gives her some white snowdrops that bring spring.
Happy, Nora is running back home with the snowdrops. It was the first day of March.
When Baba Dochia sees Nora with the snowdrops, she thinks that spring has come back and leaves for the mountains with her sheep.
She is dressed with the nine lambskins, but it rains on the mountain and the skins get soaked and heavy. Dochia has to get rid of them, one lambskin every day.
After nine days, the frost comes back, the rain turns into ice, and Baba Dochia and her sheep turn into stone.
You can still see the Babele stones up in the mountains.
Baba Dochia
Rhea or the Great Mother with the name Dochia and Dochiana in Romanian legends.
La bourse aux 2 sous
This is a French translation by Eugène Stanciu of the Romanian folktale Punguţa cu doi bani by Ion Creangă
Il était une fois une vieille femme et un vieil homme. La vieille possédait une poule, et le vieillard un coq.
La poule de la vieille pondait deux œufs par jour et…
…la vieille mangeait beaucoup d’œufs, mais le vieillard n’en profitait jamais.
Un jour, le vieil homme lui dit :
- Donne-moi quelques œufs pour apaiser ma faim.
- Si tu veux des œufs, tu n’as qu’à frapper ton coq, lui répondit la vieille grippe-sou.
Le vieil homme écouta le conseil de la vieille, attrapa le coq et le frappa en lui disant:
- Tiens! Ou bien tu ponds des œufs ou bien tu t’en vas de ma maison!
Le coq s’enfuit de la maison. En chemin, il trouva une bourse avec deux sous. Il la prit dans son bec et retourna chez son maître.
Sur le chemin il croisa une riche calèche; dès que le boyard vit le coq, il ordonna au cocher de voir ce qu’il avait dans son bec.
Le cocher retira la bourse du bec du coq, la donna au boyard et continua son chemin.
Le coq n’abandonnant pas sa bourse, il poursuivit la calèche en criant.
- Cocorico! Rendez-moi ma bourse aux deux sous !
Le boyard, furibond, ordonna au cocher de jeter le coq dans le puits, sur le côté du chemin.
Mais, le coq but l’eau jusqu’à ce que le puits soit à sec.
En sortant du puits, il poursuivit à nouveau la calèche en criant.
- Cocorico! Rendez-moi ma bourse aux deux sous !
Le boyard en colère, arrivant à la maison, ordonna à une domestique sans cœur de jeter le coq dans le four.
La vieille attrapa le coq et le jeta dans le four plein de braises.
Mais, le coq répandit l’eau avalée, et le feu s’éteignit.
Il en sortit aussitôt, sain et sauf, courut à la fenêtre du boyard malhonnête et cria:
- Cocorico! Rendez-moi ma bourse aux deux sous!
- Voilà! Je me suis mis dans un sale pétrin avec ce coq, dit le boyard. Il ordonna de le lancer au milieu du bétail. Peut-être un bœuf furieux l’encornerait-il et lui ferait la peau!
Alors, si tu avais vu le coq avaler les bœufs, les vaches et les veaux jusqu’au dernier, tu aurais vu son ventre gonfler et devenir aussi gros qu’une montagne.
Il déploya ensuite les ailes dans la direction du soleil, assombrissant toute la maison du boyard et il réclama encore la bourse aux deux sous.
Quand il vit cette prouesse, le boyard pâlit de peur et jeta le coq dans la salle du trésor où dormait son or… peut-être avalerait-il une pièce qui lui resterait en travers de la gorge.
Et le coq gourmand commença à picorer l’or.
Quand il n’y eut plus d’or, il sortit et demanda encore la bourse. En voyant qu’il ne pouvait rien faire, le boyard lui lança finalement la bourse aux deux sous.
Satisfait, le coq attrapa la bourse dans son bec et partit.
Les volailles de la cour du boyard, éblouies par tant de vaillance, le suivirent.
Sur le chemin de la maison, le coq se pavanait tandis que les volailles marchaient derrière lui en procession.
Arrivé à la maison du vieil homme, il appela son maître pour qu’il lui donnât une couverture.
Il battit des ailes et, aussitôt, la cour du vieil homme se remplit de bétail…
…et sur la couverture, un monticule d’or brillait au soleil.
La vieille crevait d’envie.
- Grand-père, dit-elle, donne-moi un peu d’or.
- N’y pense pas. Quand je t’ai demandé des œufs, qu’as-tu répondu?
Alors la grand-mère attrapa la poule et la tapa.
Dès que la poule s’échappa de ses mains, elle s’enfuit et sur le chemin, trouva une perle en verre. Elle l’avala.
Ensuite elle retourna rapidement chez la vieille femme et alla droit vers son poulailler.
Après une heure ou deux la poule, très fière de son exploit, pondit la perle.
La vieille femme crut que la poule se moquait d’elle…
…elle l’empoigna et la frappa à mort. La vieille avare sans cœur demeura très pauvre.
Mais le vieil homme vécut en paix jusqu’à la fin de ses jours, aux côtés de son coq futé.
