Once upon a time, there was an old widow who lived all alone. Her husband had been dead for a long while, and her children were all grown with families of their own, so the widow had become very lonely in her golden years.
One night, during a terrible rainstorm, there was a knock at the widow’s door. She answered it very hopeful it would be one of her children paying her a visit. Instead, she found an old hag shivering in the rain.
“Would you kindly provide an old woman with shelter from this storm?” the hag asked.
The widow had a big heart, so she didn’t hesitate to let the old hag inside. She fixed her a meal and sat her by the fire to keep warm.
“Thank you so much,” the hag said. “I’ve knocked on many doors tonight, and you’re the only person to let me in.”
“People aren’t as kind as they used to be,” the widow said. “We older women need to look out for each other.”
The hag reached into her pocket and placed four seeds into the widow’s hand.
“Please accept these barleycorn seeds as a token of my gratitude,” she said.
Seeing that the old hag had so little, the widow tried giving them back.
“You don’t need to repay me,” she said. “I’ve enjoyed your company.”
“No, I insist,” the old hag said. “These aren’t just any seeds—they’re magic, and they bring good fortune. But if you want their magic to work, they must never be eaten or planted in a field, and instead must be placed in a flowerpot of their own.”
The widow thought the hag was a foolish old woman, but to humor her guest, she planted the seeds in a small flowerpot and placed it by the window.
The old hag left the next morning, and the widow’s loneliness began to creep up on her again. Only one of the four barleycorn seeds started to grow, and since it was the only other living thing in her home, the widow talked to it every day as if it were a person.
“Good morning, dear,” the widow would say at the start of each day. “Oh my, look how much you’ve grown overnight! You must be thirsty. I’ll get you some water.”
The more frequently the widow spoke to the plant, the faster it grew, as if her voice was affecting it just as much as the sun. Soon a flower bud appeared at the top of the barleycorn stem.
“I’ve never seen a barleycorn flower before,” the widow said. “I’m so looking forward to your very first bloom.”
A week or so later, the flower bloomed. The widow was amazed, for not only had it bloomed into a beautiful flower, but inside the flower was a tiny young woman the size of a thumb.
“Hello,” the young woman said.
“My word!” the widow gasped. “How did you get in there, child?”
“I grew with the flower, of course,” she said.
“What’s your name?” the widow asked.
“I don’t have a name,” the young woman said. “Would you give me one?”
The widow thought about it until the perfect name came to mind.
“How about Thumbelina?” she asked.
“I love it,” Thumbelina said.
“Are there other people like you?” the widow asked. “I’ve never seen someone your size before.”
“I don’t know,” Thumbelina said. “You might be the closest thing to a mother I have. May I call you Mother?”
“Oh, my dear, I would like that very much,” the widow said.
The widow was thrilled to have someone to look after, and she treated Thumbelina as if she were her own daughter. She made Thumbelina a bed out of a jewelry box and a dress from a handkerchief.
The small girl conveniently fit in the widow’s pocket, so she went along with the widow to all her daily errands. At night, they would sit together by the fireplace, and the widow would read her the stories she had read to her children when they were younger. Just as they had back then, the stories always put Thumbelina right to sleep.
Unfortunately, while the widow and Thumbelina were walking about through town, the small girl caught the attention of a large and ugly toad. The toad just so happened to be looking for someone like Thumbelina. One night, while the widow and Thumbelina were sleeping, the toad snuck into the house through a hole in the wall. She shut the jewelry box, trapping Thumbelina inside, and took off with it.
“Help!” Thumbelina cried. “Mother, help me!”
The girl’s pleas were muffled by the box. The toad dragged it outside and down the path to a muddy patch that sat beside a stream. The area was home to many toads, frogs, and other creatures. Each one was nastier than the one before.
“Son, oh, son!” the toad croaked. “Mother’s returned!”
Her son was just as large and ugly as his mother, and when they squatted side by side, it was hard to tell them apart.
“Mother, what are you carrying?” the toad asked.
“I’ve found you a wife!” his mother said. “I’ve been looking all over for a suitable match, and she’s the prettiest creature I’ve seen. You two will make beautiful children!”
The mother toad opened the jewelry box so her son could see Thumbelina for himself. His wide mouth became even wider at the sight of her.
“Mama, she’s beautiful!” the toad said and went in for a kiss.
“Don’t touch me!” Thumbelina said and pushed his slimy face away from her. “Take me back to my mother at once!”
“Come now, little one,” the mother toad said. “You don’t belong with a human. You belong right here with creatures your own size!”
“I may be your size, but I don’t belong with you!” Thumbelina said. “I’m not an amphibian!”
“Then what are you?” the son asked.
Thumbelina didn’t answer, because she didn’t know. She climbed out of the jewelry box and tried running back home to her mother. Before she got far, the mother toad’s tongue wrapped around her waist and pulled her right back.
“No more talk of this nonsense,” the toad croaked. “It doesn’t matter what you are, because you will live in the mud with us and marry my son.”
The mother toad placed Thumbelina on top of a lily pad floating in the stream. The lily pad was too far away from the banks for Thumbelina to jump, and the stream moved too fast for her to swim, so she was stuck.