Once there were three sisters who lived alone in a
cottage in the woods. They had been there as long as they could
remember, and they never saw anyone else.
Now, the oldest sister was no different from other
people. Her name was One-Eye. She had just one eye, right in the middle
of her forehead.
The middle sister was also quite ordinary. Her name
was Three-Eyes. She had one eye in her forehead, and one on each side of
her face.
But the youngest sister was different. Her
name was Two-Eyes, and that’s just what she had.
Because Two-Eyes was not like others, her older
sisters were ashamed of her and picked on her all the time. They dressed
her in ragged hand-me-downs and only let her eat leftovers.
Now, the sisters owned a goat, and every day
Two-Eyes took it to the meadow to graze. One morning, when she’d had
hardly anything to eat, she sat in the grass and cried her two eyes out.
All at once, an old woman stood before her. But the
biggest surprise was that this woman had two eyes, just like Two-Eyes
herself.
“What’s wrong, my dear?” asked the woman.
“It’s my sisters,” Two-Eyes told her. “They never
give me enough to eat.”
“Don’t worry about that!” said the woman. “You can
have as much as you like. Just say to your goat,
‘Bleat, goat, bleat.
And bring me lots to eat!’
Then you’ll have plenty. When you don’t want any more,
just say,
‘Bleat, goat, bleat.
I’ve had so much to eat!’
Then the rest will vanish. Just like this.”
And the old woman vanished—just like that.
Two-Eyes couldn’t wait to try. She said to the goat,
“Bleat, goat, bleat.
And bring me lots to eat!”
The goat bleated, and a little table and chair
appeared. The table was set with a tablecloth, plate, and silverware,
and on it were dishes and dishes of wonderful-smelling food.
“This sure is better than leftovers!” said Two-Eyes.
She sat down and started in hungrily. Everything
tasted delicious. When she’d eaten her fill, she said,
“Bleat, goat, bleat.
I’ve had so much to eat!”
The goat bleated and the table vanished. “And that,”
said Two-Eyes, “is better than cleaning up!”
When Two-Eyes got home, she didn’t touch her bowl of
leftovers. Her sisters didn’t notice till she’d gone off to bed. Then
Three-Eyes said, “Look! Our little sister didn’t eat anything!”
“That’s strange,” said One-Eye. “Is someone else
giving her food? I’ll go tomorrow and watch her.”
Next morning, when Two-Eyes started out, One-Eye
said, “I’m coming along to make sure you tend the goat properly.” Then
she followed Two-Eyes to the meadow and kept a careful eye on her. So
Two-Eyes never got to use the old woman’s rhyme.
When they got home, Two-Eyes ate her bowl of
leftovers. Then she went off to the woods and cried her two eyes out.
The old woman appeared again. “What’s wrong, my
dear?”
“It’s my sisters. The goat can’t bring me food,
because One-Eye is watching me.”
“Don’t worry about that!” said the woman. “You can
stop her if you like. Just sing her this song.
‘Is your eye awake?
Is your eye asleep?
Is your eye awake?
Is your eye asleep?’
Keep singing that, and she’ll sleep soon enough.”
Then the old woman vanished.
Next morning, when Two-Eyes went to the meadow,
One-Eye again went along. Two-Eyes said, “Sister, let me sing to you.”
And she sang to her over and over,
“Is your eye awake?
Is your eye asleep?
Is your eye awake?
Is your eye asleep?”
One-Eye’s eyelid began to droop, and soon she was
fast asleep. Then Two-Eyes said to the goat,
“Bleat, goat, bleat.
And bring me lots to eat!”
The goat bleated, the table appeared, and Two-Eyes
ate her fill. Then she said,
“Bleat, goat, bleat.
I’ve had so much to eat!”
The goat bleated again, and the table vanished. Then
Two-Eyes shook her sister, saying, “Wake up, sleepyhead!”
When they got home, Two-Eyes didn’t touch her
leftovers. After she’d gone off to bed, Three-Eyes asked, “What
happened?”
“How should I know?” said One-Eye. “I fell asleep.
If you think you can do better, then you go tomorrow.”
So next morning, when Two-Eyes went to the meadow,
Three-Eyes went along and kept three careful eyes on her.
“Listen,” said Two-Eyes, “and I’ll sing to you.” And she sang to her,
over and over,
“Is your eye awake?
Is your eye asleep?
Is your eye awake?
Is your eye asleep?”
As Two-Eyes sang, the eye in her sister’s forehead
went to sleep—but her other two eyes didn’t! Three-Eyes pretended,
though, by closing them almost all the way and peeking through.
She couldn’t quite hear what Two-Eyes told the goat, but she saw
everything.
That night, when Two-Eyes had gone off to bed,
One-Eye asked, “What happened?”
“Our sister knows a charm to make the goat bring
wonderful food,” said Three-Eyes. “But I couldn’t hear the words.”
“Then let’s get rid of the goat,” said One-Eye. And
they drove it off into the woods.
Next morning, One-Eye told Two-Eyes, “You thought
you could eat better than your sisters, did you? Well, the goat is gone,
so that’s that.”
Two-Eyes went down to the stream and cried her two
eyes out. Again the old woman appeared. “What’s wrong, my dear?”
“It’s my sisters. The song didn’t work on
Three-Eyes. She saw everything, and now they’ve chased away the goat.”
“Silly girl! That charm was just for One-Eye. For
Three-Eyes, you should have sung,
‘Are your eyes awake?
Are your eyes asleep?’
But don’t worry about that. Here, take this seed and
plant it in front of your cottage. You’ll soon have a tall tree with
leaves of silver and apples of gold. When you want an apple, just say,
‘Apple hanging on the tree,
I am Two-Eyes. Come to me!’
It will fall right into your hand.”
Again the old woman vanished. Two-Eyes went home and
waited till her sisters weren’t looking, then dug a small hole and
planted the seed.
The next morning, a tall tree stood before the
cottage with leaves of silver and apples of gold. Two-Eyes found her
sisters gaping at it in astonishment.
All at once, Three-Eyes cried, “Look! A man!”
Riding toward them was a knight in full armor, his
visor over his face.
“Quick!” said One-Eye. “Hide our little sister!” So
they lowered an empty barrel over Two-Eyes.
“Good morning, ladies,” the knight said as he rode
up. “Beautiful tree you have there. I would dearly love to have one of
those apples. In fact, I would grant anything in my power to the lady
who first gave me one.”
The two sisters gasped. They scrambled over to the
tree and jumped up and down, trying to grab the apples. But the branches
just lifted themselves higher, so the apples were always out of reach.
Meanwhile, Two-Eyes raised her barrel just a little
and kicked a stone so it rolled over to the knight.
“That’s odd,” he said. “That stone seems to have
come from that barrel. Does anyone happen to be in there?”
“Oh no, sir,” said One-Eye, “not really. Just our
little sister.”
“She’s different,” said Three-Eyes, “so we
can’t let anyone see her.”
“But I want to see her,” said the knight.
“Young lady, please come out!”
So Two-Eyes lifted off the barrel.
“My word!” said the knight. “She’s the loveliest
young lady I’ve ever seen!” He raised his visor for a better look.
“Oh no!” screamed One-Eye and Three-Eyes together. “Two
eyes!”
Sure enough, the knight had two eyes, just like
their sister.
“Dear lady,” said the knight, “can you give
me an apple from that tree?”
“Of course!” said Two-Eyes. Standing under it, she
said,
“Apple hanging on the tree,
I am Two-Eyes. Come to me!”
An apple dropped right into her hand, and she gave
it to the knight.
“My thanks!” he said. “And now I will grant anything
in my power.”
“Well, to start with,” said Two-Eyes, “you can take
me away from these horrid, hateful sisters!”
So the knight took Two-Eyes back to his castle. And
since they had so much in common—after all, they both had two eyes—you
can be sure they lived happily ever after.
As for One-Eye and Three-Eyes, day after day they
stood under that tree and repeated their sister’s words.
“Apple hanging on the tree,
I am Two-Eyes. Come to me!”
But the apples never fell for them, and they never
did figure out why.
About the Story
For the old woman’s sleeping song, any tune will work,
but here’s the one she taught Two-Eyes.
Is your eye a-wake? Is your eye a-sleep?
Ever have trouble sleeping? Then you can use the old
woman’s song on yourself! Just be sure to say the right words. Here
they are, for anyone with two or more eyes.
Are my eyes awake?
Are my eyes asleep?
This telling is based loosely on “One-Eye, Two-Eyes,
and Three-Eyes,” number 130 in the tales of the Brothers Grimm. For a
different version, from the Ukraine in Eastern Europe, see One
Eye, Two Eyes, Three Eyes: A Hutzul Tale, retold by Eric A.
Kimmel, illustrated by Dirk Zimmer, Holiday House, New York, 1996.
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