Colors Stories for Kids

One morning, Nina woke up and looked out her window. Something was wrong. The whole world was gray. The sky was gray. The trees were gray. Even her favorite red shoes had turned gray overnight. "Mama," Nina called, "the colors are gone." Mama looked out the window too. "The rainbows must be sleeping," she said. "When the rainbows nap, the colors nap with them." "Then we have to wake them up," Nina said. She ran outside and looked up at the sky. "Wake up, red!" she shouted. Nothing happened. "Colors do not wake to shouting," Mama said. "They wake to songs. Try singing each color's name." Nina took a deep breath. She sang about red, the color of apples and strawberries. A small red apple on the tree turned red again. She sang about yellow, the color of the sun and daisies. The sun began to glow. She sang about blue, the color of the sky and the sea. The sky turned blue in a soft wave. She sang about green, the color of grass and leaves. The grass turned green under her feet. "Look, Mama," Nina said. "The colors are waking up." "Keep going," Mama said. "There is one more still asleep." Nina sang about purple, the color of plums and evening skies. A purple flower opened in the garden. The whole world glowed again, red and yellow and blue and green and purple. "You woke every one of them," Mama said. Nina smiled. "Each color needed its own song," she said. "And together they made the whole day bright again."

Luna's crayon box was a big beautiful mess. Red was next to green, yellow was under brown, and blue was hiding at the bottom with the grays. Whenever Luna wanted a color, she had to dig and dig. "I can never find the color I want," Luna sighed. Her grandma smiled. "Then let us give every crayon a home," she said. "Pour them out and we will sort them like a rainbow." Luna tipped the box over and the crayons rolled across the table. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, and all the shades in between. "Red goes first," Luna said, setting the red crayon in a neat row. "Red is for apples and ladybugs." "Orange is next," she said. "Orange is for pumpkins and orange juice." She lined up yellow for the sun and lemons, green for grass and frogs, blue for the sky and the sea, and purple for grapes and evening clouds. "Look at them all in a row," Luna said. "Each one has a place." Grandma nodded. "And now when you need a color, you know right where it lives." Luna picked up the brown crayon, the last one left on the table. "But brown has no rainbow place," she said sadly. "Brown is the color of tree trunks and warm cookies," Grandma said. "It sits at the end of the rainbow, keeping everything steady." Luna set brown at the end of the row and smiled. "Every color matters," she said. "Even the ones that do not shout."

High above the park, a red balloon bobbed in the sky. He was very proud of being red. "Red is the best color," he said. "It is the color of hearts and strawberries." Nearby, a blue bird perched on a branch. "Blue is the best color," she sang. "It is the color of the sea and the wide sky." The balloon floated closer. "Red is first in the rainbow," he said. The bird fluffed her feathers. "Blue is everywhere you look," she said. They argued all morning, back and forth, until a gust of wind blew the balloon into the bird's branch. The red balloon bumped against the blue bird, and for a moment the two of them swirled together in the sun. A little girl looked up and pointed. "Look," she said. "Red and blue together make purple." The balloon and the bird stopped arguing. "Purple?" they said together. The girl smiled. "When red and blue are friends, they make a whole new color. Purple is the color of plums and evening skies." The balloon floated a little closer to the bird. "We make something new together," he said. "Something neither of us could make alone," the bird agreed. From that day on, the red balloon and the blue bird flew side by side. And when the sun began to set, they watched the sky turn purple together and knew they had helped make that color, just a little bit. "Red is still my favorite," the balloon whispered. "And blue is still mine," the bird said. "But purple is ours."

Milo loved to paint, but he only ever used one color at a time. Red suns, blue trees, yellow houses, and a green dog that looked a little bit odd. He was careful never to let the colors touch. One afternoon, Milo dipped his brush in the yellow paint and reached for his paper. His hand bumped the blue pot, and a big blob of blue landed right on top of his yellow sun. "Oh no," Milo said. "Now my sun is ruined." He watched the two colors swirl together on the paper. Yellow and blue mixed and mixed, and then something surprising happened. The blob turned green. "Green," Milo said, his eyes wide. "Where did green come from?" His teacher came over to look. "Yellow and blue make green," she said. "When colors mix, they make brand new colors. That is how painters find new shades." Milo stared at his paper. "So I did not ruin my sun," he said. "I made a green one." "You made a discovery," his teacher said. Milo grinned and dipped his brush again. He mixed red and yellow and made orange. He mixed red and blue and made purple. Soon his paper was full of colors he had made all by himself. "Mixing is like a secret trick," Milo said. "Mixing is like science," his teacher said. "And it is also a lot of fun." That night, Milo painted a picture with every new color he had found. He painted a green sun, an orange sky, and a purple cat. None of them looked quite right, but all of them were his. "The best colors are the ones you make yourself," Milo said, and he smiled at his messy, wonderful paper.

Up in the sky lived a little cloud named Pearl. All day she watched the other clouds float by. Some were white, some were gray, and a few turned pink when the sun went down. Pearl, though, did not know what color she was supposed to be. "Why can you be white?" she asked a tall white cloud. "I am white when the sun is high," the cloud said. "White is the color of new snow and soft cotton." "Why can you be gray?" Pearl asked a wide gray cloud. "I am gray when I am full of rain," the gray cloud said. "Gray is the color of a cozy rainy day." Pearl sighed. "But what color am I? I have to pick just one, and I cannot choose." The gray cloud smiled. "Who says you have to pick just one?" That evening, as the sun began to set, Pearl drifted toward the horizon. The light touched her, and she turned soft pink. Then she turned orange. Then she turned a deep purple. She was every color at once, and she had not had to choose a single one. "Look at me," Pearl said, spinning slowly. "I am pink and orange and purple all at the same time." "You are a sunset cloud," the gray cloud said. "You get to be every color, because colors like to share the sky with you." Pearl glowed with happiness. "I do not have to be just one color," she said. "I can be all of them, a little at a time." And every evening after that, Pearl drifted to the horizon and wore every color of the sunset, one after another, until the stars came out to take their turn.

Lena was a little green leaf. She lived on a big oak tree. Below her, the garden was full of bright flowers. Red roses and yellow sunflowers and purple tulips all glowed in the warm sun. "Why am I just green?" said Lena. "The flowers get all the pretty colors." A red rose looked up at her. "Green is not plain," said the rose. "Your color has a very important job." "What job?" asked Lena. "I just sit up here all day." "Your green makes food from the sun," said the rose. "No leaf means no food. No food means no tree. And no tree means no home for me." Lena was not so sure. All summer she watched the flowers bloom and glow. She wished she could be red or yellow or purple, just for one day. Then the days turned cool. The flowers began to droop. Their petals fell to the ground one by one. But Lena stayed green and strong. A little bird landed on the branch beside her. "Thank you, green leaves," sang the bird. "You shade my nest. You feed this tall tree. My babies are safe because of you." "I come back every year to build my nest here," sang the bird. "This tree is home because of you and all the green leaves." Lena looked out at the garden one more time. The flowers had faded, but the tree stood tall and strong. Her green was the color that kept everything alive. Lena smiled. She was still green. She had not turned red or purple. But she was not plain at all. Her color worked hard every single day. "Green is a working color," said Lena. "And I am proud to wear it."

Sam sat at the little table with his paint box. He had a pot of blue paint and a pot of yellow paint. He dipped his brush in the blue and painted a wavy line. "I want to paint a frog," said Sam. "But I do not have green paint." His mom came over. "A frog is green," she said. "But you only have blue and yellow." Sam looked at his two pots. He dipped his brush in the yellow and made a dot next to the blue line. The two colors touched and ran together. "Mom! Look!" said Sam. "The colors made a new color!" "Blue and yellow make green," said Mom. "You just made your own green paint." Sam's eyes went wide. He painted a big green spot. It really was green. Then he painted a round green frog with two little eyes. "What else can colors make?" asked Sam. He dipped his brush in red and then in blue. The colors mixed into a deep purple. "Red and blue make purple!" said Sam. "This is magic!" "It is not magic," said Mom. "It is mixing. Colors mix to make new colors. You can make a whole box of colors from just a few." Sam painted all afternoon. He made green frogs and purple grapes and orange pumpkins. He made more new colors than he could count. "Blue and yellow made my frog," said Sam. "Now I know how to make any color I need." He cleaned his brush and smiled at his frog. Tomorrow he would try red and white to see what new color they could make.

In a box of crayons lived a purple crayon named Plum. Every day, the red crayon drew apples. The blue crayon drew skies. The green crayon drew grass. But Plum just sat in the box. "No one ever picks me," said Plum. "I am too dark and too quiet." "Your turn will come," said the red crayon. "Every color gets a turn." Plum did not believe it. Day after day, the child colored pictures, and Plum stayed in the box. He felt sad and left out. One night, the child sat at the table with a blank page. "I want to draw the night sky," she said. "But what color is the night?" The red crayon did not fit. The blue crayon was too light. The yellow crayon was too bright. The child looked in the box and picked up Plum. "Purple!" she said. "Purple is the color of the night sky." Plum could not believe it. The child drew with him, and he made the most beautiful purple night sky. He drew dark purple hills and a deep purple sky with a silver moon. "It is the best sky I have ever drawn," said the child. "Purple is my new favorite color." Plum was so happy. He sat tall in the box that night. "See?" said the red crayon. "Every color gets its turn. You just had to wait for a picture that needed you." Plum smiled. "Purple was made for night skies," he said. "And I found my job."

"Let us play a game," said Dad. "Find me three red things before lunch." Nina looked around the kitchen. She saw a red apple in a bowl. "That is one!" she said. She put the apple in her basket. Then she saw a red cup on the shelf. "That is two!" she said. She put the cup in her basket. Nina looked and looked for a third red thing. She saw yellow bananas and green peas and blue plates. But no more red. "Come outside," said Dad. "Red is hiding everywhere if you look." They walked in the yard. Nina saw a red leaf on the grass. "Three!" she shouted. She picked up the red leaf. "Now find me three more red things," said Dad. Nina hunted again. She saw a red flower by the fence. Then a red ball under the tree. Then a red bird sitting on the gate. "The bird is red too!" said Nina. "Red is all around us." Dad smiled. "You found six red things," he said. "Red was hiding in plain sight. You just had to look closely." That afternoon, Nina made a red book. She drew the apple, the cup, the leaf, the flower, the ball, and the red bird. "Red is my favorite color now," said Nina. "It is everywhere, and I never saw it before." "Look closely," said Dad, "and you will see every color, not just red." That night, Nina hunted for blue things before bed. She found a blue blanket, a blue cup, and the blue night sky outside her window. "Tomorrow I will hunt for a new color," she said.

It rained all morning. Maya watched the drops tap on the window. When the rain stopped, she put on her boots and ran outside. She found a big puddle in the driveway. It was gray and flat and a little bit boring. "It is just a puddle," said Maya. "Just water sitting on the ground." She was about to jump in it when the sun came out from behind a cloud. The light hit the water, and something small and bright appeared. "Mama, come look!" called Maya. "There are colors in the puddle!" Mama came over and kneeled down. "It is a little rainbow," she said. "The sun is bending its light through the water. The light splits into colors." Maya stared into the puddle. She saw red and orange and yellow and green and blue. The colors shimmered and danced as the water moved. "It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen," said Maya. "A whole rainbow in one little puddle." "Big beauty can hide in small places," said Mama. "You just have to bend down and look." Maya sat by the puddle for a long time. She watched the colors glow and fade as the clouds moved over the sun. She did not jump in the puddle at all. She did not want to break the little rainbow. "I will always look in puddles now," said Maya. "You never know what a puddle is hiding." The next day it rained again. Maya ran out in her boots the moment the sun came back. She bent over every puddle she could find, looking for a new little rainbow.

Ava and her grandma sat on the porch steps. Ava looked up at the sky. It was clear and bright blue. "Grandma," said Ava, "why is the sky blue? Why not pink or green?" "That is a very good question," said Grandma. "The light from the sun looks white, but it is really made of all the colors." "All the colors?" asked Ava. "Like a rainbow?" "Just like a rainbow," said Grandma. "When the sunlight comes to our sky, the blue light bounces around more than the other colors. It spreads out all over the sky. That is why the sky looks blue to us." Ava thought about that. "So the sky is blue because blue light likes to spread out?" "That is right," said Grandma. "Blue light scatters the most. The red and yellow light go straight through. The blue light fills the whole sky." Ava looked up again. The sky seemed different now. It was not just blue. It was blue light, dancing and bouncing everywhere. "Then at sunset, why does the sky turn orange and red?" asked Ava. "Good question again," said Grandma. "At sunset, the light has to travel through more sky. By then, most of the blue has scattered away, and the red and orange are left to paint the sky." Ava smiled. "Asking why helps me learn the best things," she said. "And you asked the best kind of why," said Grandma. "Now you know the sky's secret." That evening, Ava watched the sunset turn orange and red. She watched the blue fade away. "The sky is a big color show," she said.

The page lay on the table, white and empty. "I am so blank," said the page. "There is nothing on me at all." A little girl sat down with a box of crayons. She picked up the red crayon and drew a big red circle. "Now I have a red sun," said the page. "I am not so blank anymore." Then the girl picked up the green crayon. She drew green hills under the sun. "Green hills," said the page. "The red sun needs the green hills to sit on." The girl drew blue water with the blue crayon. Then a yellow boat with the yellow crayon. Then a brown tree with the brown crayon. "Look at me now!" said the page. "I am full of colors. Every crayon added something the others could not." Last of all, the girl picked up the purple crayon and drew little purple flowers in the green hills. "There," said the girl. "A whole picture, made by many colors working together." The page looked at itself. The red sun glowed. The green hills rolled. The blue water sparkled. The purple flowers dotted the grass. It was no longer blank at all. "One color alone could not make this picture," said the page. "It took every color to make me beautiful." The girl hung the picture on the wall. And the page, once empty, was now full of a whole bright world. People came to look at the picture. "What pretty colors," they said. The page felt proud. It had been blank and empty, but now every color had left its mark, and all of them together had made something worth hanging on a wall.