The Seven Ravens: A Grimm Fairy Tale for Kids

The Story

The Seven Brothers

Long ago, on the edge of a deep green forest, there lived a mother, a father and their seven sons. The boys were quick, noisy and full of life. From dawn to dusk, they ran through the yard, climbed trees, chased each other around the well and filled the little house with laughter.

Their parents loved them dearly, but their hearts held one quiet wish. They wished for a daughter too.

At last, a baby girl was born.

The parents were overjoyed, but the baby was small and weak. She lay in her cradle with her tiny hands folded against her chest, and her breathing was so soft that everyone in the room lowered their voices and listened.

“She must be baptized at once,” said her father. “Run to the well, boys. Bring fresh water as quickly as you can.”

The seven brothers raced outside together, each wanting to be the one who helped his little sister. They all reached for the water jug at the same time.

“Let me carry it!” cried the oldest.

“No, let me!” said another.

In all the pushing, pulling and shouting, the jug slipped from their hands and fell into the well with a splash.

The boys froze.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Then they peered down into the dark water. The jug was gone.

“What shall we do?” whispered the youngest brother.

The boys looked toward the house. They knew their father was waiting. They knew their baby sister needed the water. But they were frightened, and the longer they stood there, the harder it felt to go back.

“We cannot tell him,” said one brother.

“He will be furious,” said another.

So they stayed by the well, whispering and worrying, while the shadows crept across the yard.

Inside the house, their father waited. The baby’s mother held the little girl close and looked toward the door.

When the boys did not return, their father grew frightened and angry.

“Where are those boys?” he cried. “Have they forgotten their sister? I wish they would all turn into ravens and fly away!”

The words had barely left his mouth when a rush of wings filled the air.

Outside the window, seven black ravens rose from the ground. They circled the house once, calling sadly, then flew off over the forest.

The father ran outside, but it was too late.

His sons were gone.

The mother wept. The father bowed his head in sorrow. The baby girl, who knew nothing of what had happened, slept quietly in her cradle.

The Sister Learns the Truth

The little girl grew stronger day by day. She learned to smile, then to crawl, then to walk. She grew into a kind child with bright eyes and a brave heart.

Her parents loved her very much, but there was always a sadness in the house. Sometimes her mother would look at seven empty chairs by the table. Sometimes her father would stand by the well and say nothing at all.

One day, when the girl was old enough to notice these things, she asked, “Why are there seven chairs no one uses?”

Her mother turned pale.

The girl asked again, “Did someone live here before me?”

At last, her parents told her the truth. They told her about her seven brothers, the broken errand, the angry wish and the ravens that had flown away.

The girl listened with tears in her eyes.

“So they were lost because of me,” she said softly.

“No,” said her mother, holding her close. “You were only a baby. None of it was your fault.”

But the girl could not forget the story. All night she lay awake, thinking of seven brothers with black wings, flying far from home.

By morning, she had made up her mind.

“I will find them,” she said. “I will bring them back if I can.”

Her parents begged her to stay. The world was big, and she was still young, but the girl’s heart was firm.

“I cannot sit safely at home while they are lost,” she said.

So her parents gave her a small ring that had belonged to them, a loaf of bread, a little jug of water and their blessing. She kissed them goodbye and set off into the forest.

The trees were tall and the path was narrow. Birds sang above her and foxes slipped between the bushes. At night, the girl slept under the stars with her cloak wrapped around her shoulders.

The Journey to the Sun, Moon and Morning Star

She walked for many days, asking every traveler, bird and breeze whether they had seen seven ravens flying over the world. At last, she came to a strange, bright place where the sky seemed close enough to touch and the road shimmered with heat.

There, high above the road, she saw the sun.

The sun blazed bright and hot, with golden rays that burned the ground.

“Great sun,” said the girl, shielding her eyes, “you look across the whole wide world. Have you seen seven ravens who were once my brothers?”

The sun looked down with a face too fierce to bear.

“I see forests, fields, rivers and roads,” said the sun, “but my light is too bright and my heat too strong for a child to stay here long. Go on to the moon, who watches when my day is done.”

The girl thanked the sun and hurried away.

Next, she came to the moon.

The moon was pale and cold, shining over a silver field.

“Gentle moon,” said the girl, “have you seen seven ravens who were once my brothers?”

The moon’s light trembled.

“I watch the night,” said the moon, “but even I do not know every sorrow under the stars. Go to the morning star. The star is kinder and may guide you.”

So the girl traveled on until she reached the morning star, shining clear and bright before dawn.

“Dear star,” said the girl, “I am looking for my seven brothers. They were changed into ravens and flew away. Can you help me?”

The morning star looked at her with soft, silver light.

“You have walked far for love,” said the star. “Your brothers live in the Glass Mountain, beyond the dark plain. Take this small bone key. It will open the door.”

The girl thanked the star and held the tiny key carefully in her hand.

The Glass Mountain

She crossed the dark plain. The wind blew cold there, and no flowers grew. Even her footsteps sounded lonely, as if the earth itself were made of silence. Then, at the far edge of the plain, she saw the Glass Mountain rising before her.

It was more beautiful and more terrible than anything she had ever seen. Its sides glittered like frozen moonlight. Its cliffs shone blue, silver and white. Deep inside the glass, tiny sparks of color flickered and vanished, as if stars had been trapped there long ago.

In the side of the mountain was a door as smooth as silk. The girl reached into her pocket for the key.

Her pocket was empty.

A cold feeling ran through her. She remembered the long road, the dark plain and the wind tugging at her cloak. Somewhere behind her, the tiny bone key had slipped away.

For a moment, the girl wanted to sit down and cry. She had come so far. Her brothers were so close. One little key stood between them.

Then she took a deep breath.

“I will not turn back now,” she said.

Beside the door was a narrow crack, just large enough for a key. The girl looked at the crack, then at the small ring her parents had given her. It was the only treasure she had from home.

“If love brought me here,” she whispered, “then love must open the way.”

She pressed the ring into the crack.

The ring shone with a warm light.

Slowly, the door opened.

Inside the Glass Mountain

Inside the Glass Mountain was a bright hall. In the middle of the hall stood a table with seven plates, seven cups and seven little chairs.

An old woman came forward.

“Who are you?” asked the old woman.

“I am looking for seven ravens,” said the girl. “They are my brothers.”

“The ravens will return soon,” said the old woman. “They come home each evening. But you must hide for now. If they see you too suddenly, they may be frightened and fly away.”

The girl hid behind a door near the table.

Soon, she heard the beating of wings.

Seven ravens flew into the hall and settled beside the table. All day they wore their black feathers and crossed the sky as birds. But inside the mountain, when evening came, the spell loosened its hold. One by one, they shook their wings. Feathers fluttered to the floor like scraps of night, and seven young men stood beside the table.

The girl held her breath.

The brothers sat down to eat. Each had a small plate and a cup. The girl quietly stepped forward while they were looking away. She placed a tiny piece of bread from home on each plate. Then she dropped her parents’ ring into the youngest brother’s cup.

The youngest brother lifted the cup and saw the ring shining at the bottom.

He gasped.

“This is our parents’ ring,” he said. “Someone from home has found us.”

The brothers stood at once.

“If only our sister were here,” said the oldest, “then the spell might be broken.”

The girl could wait no longer.

“I am here,” she said.

She stepped from behind the door.

For a moment, the brothers stared at her in wonder. Then the youngest ran to her, and the others followed.

“Our sister!” they cried.

As they spoke, the black feathers that still clung to their shoulders fell away. The spell broke like mist in sunlight.

The seven ravens were seven brothers again.

The girl laughed and cried at the same time. Her brothers gathered around her, asking a hundred questions all at once.

“How did you find us?”

“Were Mother and Father well?”

“Did you come alone?”

“You are braver than all of us!”

The girl smiled.

“I came because you were missing,” she said. “And because our family was not whole without you.”

Home Again

The brothers led her out of the Glass Mountain. The dark plain did not seem so frightening now. The moon lit their path. The morning star watched over them. Even the sun, when it rose, seemed warm instead of fierce.

At last, they reached the little house by the forest.

Their mother was standing by the door. Their father was near the well.

When the parents saw eight children coming toward them, they could hardly believe their eyes.

The mother ran to her sons and held them close. The father wept and asked their forgiveness.

“I spoke in anger,” he said. “I have wished every day that I could take those words back.”

The brothers forgave him, for they had long wished to come home too.

From that day on, the seven chairs were never empty again. The house was noisy once more, filled with fun, stories and laughter.

And whenever anyone in the family grew angry, they remembered the ravens.

They learned that words can fly farther than we mean them to, and love must sometimes travel even farther to bring everyone home.