Full Text: The Gifts of the Little People
One story, four ways to read it
Every story comes in its original version plus several simplified reading levels, so it grows with your child.
The original text is the full story with rich vocabulary and descriptive language, ideal for reading aloud together and for kids who are ready for longer sentences.
The simplified levels retell the same story in shorter, simpler sentences matched to your child's stage. Ages 2-6 uses a few short sentences per scene, perfect for first time readers. Ages 4-8 adds simple dialogue and everyday vocabulary for kids beginning to follow along. Ages 6-10 keeps the language accessible while bringing back more of the story's detail, a natural bridge to the original.
Start at the level where your child is comfortable, and move up when they're ready. Hearing the same story told in richer language each time is one of the best ways to build vocabulary in any language.
Original Text: The Gifts of the Little People
A blacksmith and a tailor had been at work all day. In the evening, they walked together in the countryside. The moon rose as they made their way along a lonely road.
All at once they heard music in the distance. It was so sweet that they forgot how tired they were and hurried on. The sound grew clearer and clearer.
Soon they came to a hillside. There they saw a crowd of merry little men and women, dancing in a ring to the music.
In the middle of the ring stood a little man with a long white beard that reached to his waist. He wore a coat of many colours.
The tailor and the blacksmith stood still, watching the dancers. Soon the little old man gestured for them to come inside the ring.
At first, they were reluctant. But when they saw how merry and good-natured the little people were, they joined the ring. Round and round danced the little men and women.
After a while, the old man drew a large knife from his belt. He felt the edge and sharpened it on a stone. Then he turned and looked hard at the strangers.
They were frightened, but there was no time to run. He caught the blacksmith and shaved off his hair and beard. Then he turned to the tailor and shaved him too.
When he had finished, he patted them on the back to show he was pleased with them. He pointed to a heap of coals by the roadside and gestured to them to fill their pockets.
Both did as they were told, though they could not see what use a pocket full of coals would be.
Then the clock struck twelve. All at once the music stopped and in a flash the little people were gone. The green hillside lay quiet in the moonlight.
The tailor and the blacksmith rubbed their eyes. Had it all been a dream? No. Their heads were shaven and their pockets were full of coals.
They walked down the road until they came to a house where they hoped to spend the night. There was nowhere for them to sleep but in the stable. They lay down on the straw and fell asleep. They were too tired even to empty the coals from their pockets.
But early the next morning, the weight in their pockets woke them. To their surprise, instead of coals, their pockets were full of lumps of gold. Their beards had grown again and their heads were covered with hair.
They were now very rich. The blacksmith had larger pockets and so had even more gold than the tailor. But he was not content.
“Ah, friend tailor,” he said, “I wish we had known those coals would turn to gold. I would have taken more. I would have filled my hands as well as my pockets. Let us go back to the hillside tonight. No doubt the little old man will give us more.”
“No,” said the tailor. “I am content. The little man gave me more gold than I had ever hoped for. Instead of trying to get more, I shall make the best of what I have.”
“Then I shall go alone,” said the blacksmith.
He had the tailor make his pockets larger and bought two large bags. Then he went to the hillside. He found the little people dancing and singing as on the night before.
Again they took him into the ring. The old man shaved him and gestured to him to take some coals. He filled all his pockets and both bags. Then he went home, dragging his heavy load. He had a bed that night, but he did not take off his clothes.
“The weight of the gold in my pockets will wake me early,” he said. “Then I shall get up and count my riches.”
Early the next morning, he started up and put his hands in his pockets. There were coals-black coals. Handful after handful he pulled out, but no gold. In the bags too there were only coals.
“Well, I still have the gold from the first night,” he said. “That is safe.” And he went to look at it.
To his dismay, it had all turned to coal. He put his sooty hands up to his head. It was bald and his chin was smooth.
“I am punished for being greedy,” he cried. “I wanted more, and I have lost what I had.”
He groaned so loudly that he woke the tailor.
“Do not be so sad,” said the tailor. “You and I have long been friends. I have more gold than I need and you shall share it.”
He kept his word, but he could not give the blacksmith back his hair. For the rest of his life the blacksmith had to wear a cap to hide his bald head.