Rumpelstiltskin - German

They whisper my name in the deep, dark woods, where the mushrooms grow in circles and the moonlight filters through the leaves like silver dust. My name is a secret, a riddle wrapped in magic, and I am the one who can turn the impossible into shimmering reality... for a price. This is the story of how a miller's daughter learned the power of a promise, and it's a tale you might know as Rumpelstiltskin. It all began with a poor miller who, hoping to feel important, told the greedy king a fantastic lie: that his daughter could spin straw into pure gold. The king, his eyes gleaming with avarice, didn't hesitate. He locked the girl in a tower room piled high with straw, giving her one night to prove her father's boast or face a terrible fate. The poor girl could only weep, for she had no such magical skill. As her tears fell, the wooden door creaked open, and I appeared. I offered to perform the impossible task, but my magic always has a price. For this first miracle, I asked only for the simple necklace she wore. Trembling, she agreed, and I set to work, the spinning wheel humming a magical tune as straw turned to shimmering, golden thread.

By sunrise, the room was filled with gold. The king was overjoyed, but his delight quickly turned to greater greed. He led the miller's daughter to a much larger room, piled even higher with straw, and repeated his command. Once again, the girl was left alone, her hope fading. And once again, I appeared from the shadows to offer my help. This time, my price was the small, simple ring on her finger. She gave it to me without a second thought, and I spent the night spinning another fortune for the king. On the third day, the king showed her to the largest chamber in the castle, a cavernous space overflowing with straw. 'Spin this into gold,' he commanded, 'and you shall be my queen.' The girl had nothing left to offer me. When I appeared for the third time, I saw her desperation. So I made a different kind of bargain, one for the future. I would spin the straw one last time, and in return, she would give me her firstborn child when she became queen. Trapped and terrified, she agreed to the terrible promise. I spun the straw, the king kept his word, and the miller's daughter became a queen.

A year went by, and the new queen gave birth to a beautiful child. In her happiness, she had forgotten all about her promise to me. But I never forget a bargain. I appeared before her, my arms outstretched to claim my prize. The queen was horrified. She offered me all the jewels, gold, and riches in the kingdom if she could only keep her baby. But I refused. 'Something living is dearer to me than all the treasures in the world,' I told her. Seeing her genuine sorrow, I decided to offer her a game, a final chance. 'I will give you three days,' I declared. 'If, by the end of the third day, you can guess my name, you may keep your child.' The queen spent the next two days in a panic, sending messengers across the land to collect every name they could find. She guessed them all—Caspar, Melchior, Balthazar, and hundreds more—but to each one, I chuckled and replied, 'That is not my name.' On the morning of the third day, a messenger returned, breathless with a strange tale. Deep in the forest, he had seen a funny little man dancing around a fire, singing a peculiar song: 'Today I'll brew, tomorrow I'll bake; then I'll fetch the queen's new child. How glad I am that nobody knows, that Rumpelstiltskin is my style!' The queen finally had her answer. When I arrived that night, she played along, guessing a few more names before finally asking with a confident smile, 'Could your name, perhaps, be Rumpelstiltskin?'

A shriek of fury echoed through the chamber. 'The witch told you! The witch told you!' I cried. In my rage, I stomped my foot so hard it plunged right through the wooden floorboards. When I yanked it free, I vanished in a puff of angry smoke and was never seen in that kingdom again. The queen, her child safe in her arms, lived a long and happy life. This story, first written down by the Brothers Grimm in Germany on December 20th, 1812, has been told for generations. It warns us about making foolish boasts and reminds us of the importance of keeping a promise. Most of all, it shows the power that lies within a name—our identity. Today, the tale of Rumpelstiltskin continues to inspire books, plays, and movies, a magical thread of folklore that reminds us that even the most tangled problems can be unraveled with cleverness and that a secret, once spoken aloud, loses its power over us.