24/08/2026
2026 August Week 4 story: 8月23日-8月28日小故事 - The Spindle, the Shuttle, and the Needle (Die Spindel, der Webfaden und die Nadel — Brothers Grimm)
Once upon a time, there lived a little girl who lost her father and mother while she was still a tiny child. Far away at the end of the village lived her godmother, who supported herself alone by spinning, weaving, and sewing. The old woman took the lonely child into her house, kept her to work, and brought her up in all piety and goodness.
When the girl was fifteen years old, the old woman fell ill. She called the child to her bedside and said: "My dear daughter, I feel my end approaching. I leave you my cottage, which will protect you from wind and weather, and also my spindle, shuttle, and needle, with which you can earn your bread." Then she laid her hands upon the girl's head, blessed her, and said: "Keep God in your heart, and you will prosper." With that, she closed her eyes, and when she was carried to the grave, the girl walked behind her coffin, weeping bitterly, and paid her the last honors.
The girl now lived all alone in the little house. She was industrious, spun, wove, and sewed, and the blessing of the old woman rested upon everything she did. It seemed as if the flax in her room grew of itself, and whenever she wove a piece of cloth or made a shirt, she immediately found a buyer who paid her handsomely, so that she suffered no want and even had something to share with the poor.
About this time, the King’s son was traveling through the country to seek a bride. He was not to choose a poor girl, nor did he want a rich one. He said: "She shall be my wife who is at once the poorest and the richest."
When he arrived at the village where the girl lived, he asked, as he did everywhere, who was the richest and who was the poorest girl in the place. They first named the richest, and then said that the poorest was the girl who lived in the small house at the very end of the village.
The rich girl sat at her door in full splendor, and when the Prince passed by, she stood up, went to meet him, and bowed low. He looked at her, said nothing, and rode on.
When he came to the house of the poor girl, she was not standing at the door, but sitting in her little room. He looked through the window, through which the bright sun shone, and saw the girl sitting at her spinning wheel, spinning diligently. She blushed deeply when she saw the Prince looking in, cast down her eyes, and continued to spin. Whether the thread was quite even or not, I do not know, but she spun on until the King's son rode away.
Then she stepped to the window, opened it, and said: "It is so warm in this room," and looked after him as long as she could distinguish the white feathers in his hat.
She sat down to her work again and spun on. Then a rhyme occurred to her which the old woman had often sung while at work, and she sang:
"Spindle, spindle, run away,
Bring my suitor here today."
Lo and behold! The spindle immediately leapt out of her hand and out through the door. When she looked after it in astonishment, she saw it dancing out across the field, trailing a bright golden thread behind it. Before long, it had danced out of her sight. As she now had no spindle, she took the shuttle in her hand, sat down at her loom, and began to weave.
The spindle danced on and on, and just as the thread came to an end, it reached the Prince. "What do I see?" he cried. "The spindle wants to guide me!" He turned his horse around and rode back along the golden thread.
Meanwhile, the girl sat at her loom and sang:
"Shuttle, shuttle, weave so fine,
Lead this suitor home of mine."
Instantly, the shuttle sprang from her hand and out through the door. At the threshold, it began to weave a carpet finer than any that had ever been seen. Roses and lilies bloomed on both sides, and in the middle, on a golden ground, green thickets grew up, with hares and rabbits running through them, deer and stags poking their heads out, and brightly colored birds sitting on the branches, looking as if they could sing. The shuttle sprang back and forth, and the carpet seemed to grow of itself.
As the shuttle had run away, the girl sat down to sew. She took the needle in her hand and sang:
"Needle, needle, sharp and small,
Make my room fit for a hall."
Then the needle flew out of her fingers and darted about the room like lightning. It was just as if invisible spirits were at work: the table and benches were covered with green cloth, the chairs with velvet, and on the walls hung curtains of golden silk.
Scarcely had the needle put in its last stitch when the girl saw through the window the white feathers on the Prince's hat. He was riding back along the golden thread. He stepped off his horse, walked over the carpet to the house, and entered the room.
There stood the girl in her simple clothes, yet she shone within them like a rose in a bush.
"You are at once the poorest and the richest," said the Prince to her. "Come with me, you shall be my bride."
She held out her hand to him. He gave her a kiss, led her out, lifted her onto his horse, and took her to the royal castle, where the wedding was celebrated with great joy.
The spindle, the shuttle, and the needle were kept in the royal treasury and held in high honor forever after.
