Hansel and Gretel

Once upon a time, on the edge of a great forest, there lived a poor woodcutter with his wife and two children. The boy was called Hansel and the girl Gretel. The family had very little to eat, and when a great famine came to the land, the woodcutter could no longer provide even daily bread for his family.

One night, as he lay tossing and turning in his bed, the woodcutter groaned, “What will become of us? How can we feed our poor children when we have nothing for ourselves?”

“Listen to me, husband,” whispered his wife, who was the children’s stepmother. “Tomorrow morning, we will take the children deep into the thickest part of the forest. We’ll light a fire and give them each a small piece of bread. Then we’ll go about our work and leave them there. They won’t find their way back, and we will be rid of them.”

“No, wife,” said the woodcutter, his heart heavy with sorrow. “I cannot do that. How could I leave my children alone in the forest? The wild animals would soon come and tear them to pieces.”

“Then we will all four die of hunger,” said the woman harshly. “You might as well plane the boards for our coffins.”

She gave him no peace until he consented, though it grieved his heart deeply.

The two children, too hungry to sleep, had heard everything their stepmother said. Gretel wept bitter tears, but Hansel whispered, “Don’t cry, Gretel. I will find a way to save us.”

When the adults were asleep, Hansel slipped outside. The moon shone brightly, and the white pebbles that lay in front of the house glittered like silver coins. Hansel stooped and filled his pockets with as many as he could.

Early the next morning, before the sun had risen, the stepmother came and woke the children. “Get up, you lazybones. We’re going into the forest to chop wood.”

She gave each of them a small piece of bread, saying, “That’s for your dinner. Don’t eat it before then, for you’ll get nothing else.”

Gretel carried the bread in her apron, for Hansel’s pockets were full of pebbles. Then they all set off together toward the forest.

As they walked, Hansel kept stopping to look back at the house. His father noticed and asked, “Hansel, why do you keep looking back? Take care and mind your steps.”

“Oh, father,” said Hansel, “I’m looking at my white cat sitting on the roof to say goodbye to me.”

“Fool!” said the stepmother. “That’s not your cat. That’s the morning sun shining on the chimney.”

But Hansel was not looking at a cat. Each time he stopped, he dropped a bright white pebble from his pocket onto the path.

When they reached the middle of the forest, the father said, “Now, children, gather some wood. I’ll light a fire so you won’t be cold.”

Hansel and Gretel gathered brushwood into a small mountain. The father lit it, and when the flames were burning high, the stepmother said, “Now lie down by the fire and rest. We’re going deeper into the forest to cut wood. When we’re finished, we’ll come back to get you.”

Hansel and Gretel sat by the fire, and when noon came, they each ate their piece of bread. They thought their father was still nearby because they could hear the sound of an ax hitting wood. But it was not an ax—it was a branch the parents had tied to a withered tree, which the wind was blowing back and forth.

They waited so long that their eyes closed with tiredness, and they fell fast asleep. When they finally awoke, it was dark night.

Gretel began to cry, “How will we get out of the forest?”

But Hansel comforted her. “Wait a little until the moon rises, and then we’ll find our way.”

When the full moon rose, Hansel took his sister’s hand, and they followed the path of pebbles, which shone like newly minted coins and showed them the way. They walked all night long and reached their father’s house as dawn was breaking.

They knocked on the door, and when the stepmother opened it, she exclaimed, “You wicked children! Why have you slept so long in the forest? We thought you were never coming back.”

But the father rejoiced, for he had not been happy about leaving them alone.

Not long after, there was another famine in the land, and one night the children again heard their stepmother saying to their father, “Everything is eaten again. We have only half a loaf of bread, and then our song is done. The children must go. This time we’ll lead them deeper into the forest so they can’t find their way out. There is no other way to save ourselves.”

The man’s heart was heavy, and he thought, “It would be better to share the last bite with your children.” But his wife would not listen and scolded him bitterly.

Hansel, who had been listening, tried to get up to collect pebbles as before, but the stepmother had locked the door. Nevertheless, he comforted Gretel, saying, “Don’t cry. I’ll find a way to save us.”

Early the next morning, the stepmother came and got the children out of bed. They received their pieces of bread, even smaller than before. On the way to the forest, Hansel crumbled the bread in his pocket and kept stopping to throw crumbs on the ground.

“Hansel, why are you always stopping and looking around?” asked his father. “Keep walking straight ahead.”

“I’m looking at my little dove sitting on the roof, to say goodbye to me,” answered Hansel.

“Simpleton!” said the stepmother. “That’s not your dove. That’s the morning sun shining on the chimney.”

But Hansel continued to drop crumbs along the way.

The stepmother led the children even deeper into the forest, to a place they had never been before. Again, a big fire was made, and the stepmother said, “Sit here, children. If you get tired, you can sleep a bit. We’re going into the forest to cut wood, and in the evening when we’re finished, we’ll come back to get you.”

When noon came, Gretel shared her bread with Hansel, who had scattered his along the road. Then they fell asleep, and evening passed, but no one came for the poor children. When they awoke, it was the dark of night. This time, Hansel’s plan had failed—birds had eaten all the crumbs, and there was no trail to follow.

“We’ll find our way,” Hansel reassured Gretel, but they could not. They walked all night and all the next day, but they could not find their way out of the forest. They were very hungry, for they had nothing to eat but a few berries they found on the ground.

On the third day, they saw a beautiful snow-white bird sitting on a branch. It sang so sweetly that they stopped to listen. When it flew away, they followed it until they came to a little house. The bird perched on the roof, and as they came nearer, they saw that the house was made entirely of bread, with a roof of cake and windows of clear sugar.

“We’ll have a good meal now,” said Hansel. “I’ll have a piece of the roof, and Gretel, you can have some of the window—it will taste sweet.”

Hansel reached up and broke off a piece of the roof to see how it tasted, while Gretel stood by the window and nibbled at it. Then a soft voice called from inside:

“Nibble, nibble, little mouse, Who is nibbling at my house?”

The children answered:

“The wind, the wind, The heavenly child.”

And they went on eating without being disturbed. Hansel, who found the roof tasted very good, tore down a great piece of it, and Gretel pushed out a whole round windowpane and sat down to enjoy it.

Suddenly the door opened, and a very old woman leaning on a crutch came out. Hansel and Gretel were so frightened that they dropped what they held in their hands.

But the old woman nodded her head and said, “Oh, you dear children, who has brought you here? Come in and stay with me. No harm will come to you.”

She took them both by the hand and led them into her little house. A good meal of milk and pancakes with sugar, apples, and nuts was set before them. Afterward, two little beds with clean white sheets were prepared, and Hansel and Gretel lay down in them, thinking they were in heaven.

But the old woman had only pretended to be kind. She was actually a wicked witch who had built the bread house to lure children to her. When children fell into her power, she killed them, cooked them, and ate them. Witches have red eyes and cannot see far, but they have a keen sense of smell, like animals, and can detect when humans are near.

When Hansel and Gretel came close to her house, she had laughed wickedly and said to herself, “They are mine! They won’t escape me again!”

Early the next morning, before the children were awake, she got up, and when she saw them both sleeping so peacefully, with their full, rosy cheeks, she muttered, “They will be a good mouthful.”

She grabbed Hansel with her withered hand and carried him to a little stable, where she shut him behind a grated door. He could scream all he wanted, but it was no use. Then she went back to Gretel, shook her awake, and cried, “Get up, lazy thing! Fetch water and cook something good for your brother. He’s in the stable and needs to be fattened up. When he’s fat enough, I’m going to eat him.”

Gretel began to weep bitterly, but it was all in vain—she had to do what the wicked witch told her.

The best food was now cooked for poor Hansel, but Gretel got nothing but crab shells. Every morning, the old woman crept out to the stable and called, “Hansel, stick out your finger so I can feel if you’re fat enough yet.”

But Hansel always stuck out a little bone, and the old woman, who had dim eyes, couldn’t see it. She thought it was Hansel’s finger and was amazed that he didn’t get fat.

When four weeks had passed and Hansel still remained thin, impatience overcame her, and she decided to wait no longer.

“Hey, Gretel,” she called to the girl, “be quick and draw some water. Whether Hansel is fat or thin, tomorrow I’m going to slaughter him and cook him.”

Oh, how the poor little sister wept as she carried the water, and how the tears ran down her cheeks!

“Dear God, please help us,” she cried. “If only the wild animals had eaten us in the forest, then at least we would have died together.”

“Save your whining,” said the old woman. “It won’t help you at all.”

Early in the morning, Gretel had to go out, hang up the kettle with water, and light the fire.

“First we’ll bake,” said the old woman. “I’ve already heated the oven and kneaded the dough.” She pushed poor Gretel toward the oven, from which flames were already leaping. “Crawl in,” said the witch, “and see if it’s properly heated, so that we can put the bread in.”

But Gretel knew what the witch had in mind—she meant to shut the oven door once Gretel was inside, to roast her and eat her too.

“I don’t know how to do it,” said Gretel. “How do I get in?”

“Silly goose,” said the old woman. “The opening is big enough. See, I could even fit in myself.” And she crept up and stuck her head into the oven.

Then Gretel gave her a push that sent the witch right in, shut the iron door, and bolted it. Oh, how horribly she howled! But Gretel ran away, and the godless witch was miserably burned to death.

Gretel ran straight to Hansel, opened his little stable, and cried, “Hansel, we are saved! The old witch is dead!”

Hansel sprang out like a bird from its cage when the door is opened. How happy they were! They hugged each other, danced around, and kissed each other.

Since they no longer had anything to fear, they went through the witch’s house and discovered chests full of pearls and precious stones in every corner.

“These are better than pebbles,” said Hansel, stuffing his pockets.

Gretel said, “I want to take something home too,” and filled her apron.

“But now let’s go,” said Hansel, “so that we can get out of the witch’s forest.”

After walking for a few hours, they came to a great body of water.

“We can’t get across,” said Hansel. “I don’t see a bridge or a boat.”

“And there’s no ferry here either,” replied Gretel. “But there’s a white duck swimming. If I ask her, she’ll help us across.”

So she called:

“Little duck, little duck, here stand Gretel and Hansel. No path and no bridge, take us on your white back.”

The duck came to them, and Hansel sat on her back and told his sister to sit beside him.

“No,” replied Gretel. “That would be too heavy for the duck. She should take us across one at a time.”

The good little duck did that, and when they were safely on the other side and had walked for a short while, the forest grew more and more familiar to them. Finally, they saw their father’s house in the distance. They began to run, rushed inside, and threw their arms around their father’s neck.

The man had not had a happy hour since he had left the children in the forest. His wife had died. Gretel emptied her apron, and pearls and precious stones rolled around the room. Hansel took one handful after another out of his pocket and added to them.

All their troubles were over, and they lived together in perfect happiness. My tale is done; there runs a mouse, whosoever catches it may make himself a big fur cap out of it.

And they lived happily ever after.