Once upon a time there was a mother who had two daughters. Marie was hardworking and kind. Her sister Lotte would rather lie in the sun. Every day Marie sat by the well in front of the house and spun. Whirr, whirr, went the spindle. But one day it slipped out of her hand. Splash! It fell into the well. Marie leaned far over the edge. Much too far! She tumbled right in. And everything became soft and still.
When Marie opened her eyes, she was lying in a meadow. The sun was shining, and a thousand flowers were blooming. Marie set off. Soon she came to a baker’s oven. Inside, the bread cried out, “Oh, take me out! Take me out! Or I shall burn! I have been baked a long time!” Marie picked up the bread shovel. She took out the loaves, one after another. They were all golden brown and smelled wonderful.
Together: Call out together, just like the bread: “Take me out! Take me out!”
Marie walked on. There stood an apple tree full of red apples. The tree called out, “Oh, shake me! Shake me! We apples are all ripe!” Marie took hold of the trunk and shook. Thump, thump, thump! The apples fell like rain. One cheeky apple bounced right off the tip of her shoe. Marie shook until not a single apple was left up high. Then she gathered them all into a neat pile.
Together: Join in, as loud as you like: “Thump, thump, thump!”
At last Marie came to a little house. An old woman peeped out of the window. She had great big teeth! Marie got a fright. But the old woman smiled kindly. “Stay with me, dear child,” she said. “Help me in the house, and all will be well with you.” “Only one thing matters,” she said. “Shake my bed hard, so the feathers fly. Then there is snow on the earth. I am Mother Holle.”
Every morning Marie opened the window. She shook out the thick featherbeds, good and hard. The feathers swirled like snowflakes. Marie whispered, “Then there is snow on the earth.” And it was true: far, far below, snow fell on the rooftops of the village. The children there caught the flakes on their tongues. Marie was happy with Mother Holle. But after a while she grew quiet. She missed her mother and her home.
Together: Blow a feather through the air together: Fffff!
“I am pleased that you long for your home,” said Mother Holle. She led Marie to a great big gate. The gate swung open. And a shower of gold rained down on Marie. All the gold stuck to her dress. “That is because you worked so hard,” said Mother Holle. And she gave her back her spindle, too. All at once Marie was standing at home beside the well. The rooster on the rim crowed, “Cock-a-doodle-doo! Your golden girl’s come back to you!”
Lotte wanted gold, too. She threw her spindle into the well and jumped in after it. But she left the bread in the oven. “As if I want to get myself dirty!” She left the apples on the tree. “One of you might fall on my head!” At Mother Holle’s house she didn’t shake a single bed. This time nobody said: Then there is snow on the earth. At the gate, sticky black pitch came splashing down on her. The rooster crowed, “Cock-a-doodle-doo! Your sticky girl’s come back to you!”
No soap could wash the pitch away. But then Lotte carried water for her mother. And plop! A little bit of pitch fell off! She shook out the beds with Marie. Plop! Another little bit fell off. On the day of the first snow, Lotte was all clean. The sisters stood together at the window, snug and warm. Outside, the flakes were falling softly. “Mother Holle is shaking out her beds,” whispered Marie. Lotte smiled. “Then there is snow on the earth.”
