Goblin Stories for Kids

Zig the goblin was small, quick, and very sneaky. He loved cookies more than anything, and one day, he ate the very last one from the jar, even though it was meant for the whole family. "Who ate the last cookie?" his mother asked. "Not me," Zig said quickly. "Maybe it was the wind." "The wind does not eat cookies," his mother said, but she let it go. The next day, Zig ate the last slice of bread. When his mother asked, he said, "Maybe a bird flew in and took it." His mother sighed. "Birds do not come inside, Zig." Zig's lies were small, but they began to pile up. He said the dog knocked over the flour. He said his brother lost the spoon. Soon, everyone in the house was confused and cross. "Why does nothing make sense anymore?" his little brother wailed. Zig's tummy hurt. Every lie made him feel worse, and he could not keep them straight anymore. He had told so many that he could not remember which was which. "I have to fix this," Zig whispered. He went to his mother. "It was me," he said. "I ate the cookie and the bread. I knocked over the flour. I lost the spoon. I told lies to hide it, and I am sorry." His mother knelt down. "Thank you for telling the truth, Zig. It was hard, and you did it anyway." Zig felt the tummy ache fade away. "The truth is so much easier," he said. "Lies get tangled up, but the truth is straight and simple." "Always remember that," his mother said. "One honest word beats a hundred little lies." From that day on, Zig told the truth, even when it was hard. And his tummy never hurt from secrets again.

Pip the goblin was on a mission. He was collecting shiny stones for his collection, and he was in a big hurry to find the shiniest one of all. "Shiny, shiny, shiny," Pip sang as he scurried along, eyes on the ground. "I will have the best collection in the whole cave." Just then, a tiny beetle crawled right into his path. Pip was moving so fast he nearly stepped on it. "Hey!" the beetle squeaked. "Watch where you are going!" Pip stopped. "Sorry," he said, and then he noticed the beetle's leg. It was caught under a little twig, and the beetle could not pull free. "I have to keep looking for stones," Pip said, starting to walk away. But he looked back at the beetle, who was wiggling and worried, and his feet would not move. "Oh, all right," Pip sighed. He turned around and gently lifted the twig. The beetle's leg came free. "Thank you!" the beetle said. "I thought I would be stuck forever." Pip shrugged. "It was nothing." "It was everything to me," the beetle said. Pip blinked. "It was just a small thing." "Small kindnesses are still kindnesses," the beetle said. "And to the one who is stuck, they are huge." Pip thought about that all the way home. He found no shiny stones that afternoon, but somehow he did not mind. The warm feeling in his chest was shinier than any stone. The next day, Pip was back in the same spot. And waiting for him was the beetle, along with three other beetles, who had come to say thank you and to play. "You stopped to help me," the beetle said, "and now you have four new friends." Pip grinned. "I was looking for shiny stones," he said, "but I found something much better." He never forgot that the smallest kindness can be the biggest thing in someone's day.

At the mouth of the goblin cave sat a great big rock. It had been there for years, blocking the best view of the valley, and the goblins all agreed it had to go. "I will move it," said the first goblin, and he pushed with all his might. The rock did not move even a tiny bit. "I am stronger," said the second goblin, and he pushed too. The rock stayed exactly where it was. "Stand back, I will do it alone," said the third goblin, and he pushed until his face turned red. The rock did not budge. "This rock is impossible," said the fourth goblin, and he kicked it with his foot, then hopped around holding his sore toe. The four goblins sat down in a row, tired and cross. "Nobody can move this rock," they grumbled. Then the smallest goblin had an idea. "What if we all push at the same time?" she said. The others looked at each other. "That could work," one said slowly. "We never tried together." So they all stood behind the rock, shoulder to shoulder, hands on the stone. "One, two, three, push!" they shouted. They pushed together, and the rock wobbled. They pushed harder, and it rolled. They kept pushing, and with one great heave, the rock tumbled down the hill and out of the way. "We did it!" they cheered, dancing in a little circle. "Alone, none of us could move it," the smallest goblin said. "But together, we rolled it away." "Many hands make heavy things light," another said. From that day on, whenever the goblins had a big job, they did not try to do it alone. They gathered their friends and pushed together. And no rock, no matter how big, ever blocked their view again.

It was Gob the goblin's birthday, and his friends had planned the best party ever. There were honey cakes and berry juice and a big pile of presents wrapped in leaves. "Happy birthday, Gob!" they all shouted. Gob tore into his presents. He got a new pair of boots, a shiny whistle, and a little green hat that fit him perfectly. He was so excited that he ran around showing everyone his new things. "Look at my boots! Listen to my whistle! Feel my hat!" he shouted, running from friend to friend. The party went on all afternoon, and Gob had a wonderful time. When the sun went down, his friends waved goodbye and went home. That night, Gob's mother sat beside him. "Did you have a good birthday?" she asked. "The best," Gob said. "Did you thank your friends for your presents?" his mother asked. Gob's face fell. He thought about the boots and the whistle and the hat, and about his friends who had wrapped them all in leaves. He had been so excited that he had forgotten to say thank you. "Oh no," Gob said. "I did not." "Then tomorrow," his mother said, "you can thank them. A thank you is a gift you give back." The next morning, Gob went to every friend's house. "Thank you for my boots," he said to the first. "Thank you for my whistle," he said to the second. "Thank you for my hat," he said to the third. His friends beamed. "You are welcome," they said. "Your thank you made our gifts feel extra special." Gob smiled. "Saying thank you makes the gift bigger," he said. "It makes both sides happy." From that day on, Gob never forgot to say thank you, and his friends always felt warm and loved.

Gobbles the goblin planted a tiny seed in a little pot by his window. He watered it and gave it plenty of sun, then he sat down to wait. "Grow, little seed," Gobbles said. "Grow big and tall." He waited one whole minute. Nothing happened. He waited one whole hour. Still nothing. "Why is it not growing?" Gobbles grumbled. "I want a big plant right now." A wise old worm poked its head out of the soil. "Seeds do not grow in a minute," the worm said. "They grow a little bit every day, while nobody is watching." "But I want to see it grow," Gobbles said. "I do not want to wait." "Then you will miss the best part," the worm said. "Watching a seed become a plant is a slow, quiet kind of wonder." Gobbles sighed. But he kept watering his seed and giving it sun, and he tried very hard to be patient. Every morning, he checked his pot. For days, there was nothing but soil. Then one morning, Gobbles saw a tiny green tip poking through the dirt. He gasped. "It is growing!" he shouted. "A little sprout!" "See?" the worm said. "Good things grow slowly. But they do grow." Gobbles watched his sprout every single day after that. It grew a little taller each morning. It grew leaves, and then a stem, and then, one sunny day, a single bright flower opened up. "It is beautiful," Gobbles whispered. "It was worth every day of waiting." "The wait is part of the wonder," the worm said. "Good things are even sweeter when you have waited for them." Gobbles smiled at his flower. "I was in such a hurry," he said. "But now I see. The slow way is the sweetest way." From that day on, Gobbles planted more seeds, and he never once tried to rush them again.

Pip was a little goblin. He lived in a mushroom house in the woods. He had one last berry for his supper. It was big and red and sweet. Just then, a small mouse came to his door. The mouse looked thin and hungry. "Hello," said the mouse. "I am so hungry. I have not eaten all day. Do you have anything to share?" Pip looked at his berry. It was his last one. His tummy was rumbling too. But the mouse looked so sad. "Come in," said Pip. "I have one berry. We can share it." "But it is your last berry," said the mouse. "Are you sure?" "A berry is better when it is shared," said Pip. He cut the berry in two. He gave one half to the mouse. He kept the other half for himself. They sat together and ate. The berry was sweet and juicy. "This is so good," said the mouse. "Thank you, Pip. You are very kind." "I am glad you came by," said Pip. "Sharing makes food taste better." The mouse smiled. "I have never had such a sweet berry," it said. After they ate, the mouse said goodbye. "I will bring you some nuts tomorrow," said the mouse. "To say thank you." Pip smiled. His tummy was not full, but his heart was very full. "Sharing a little can mean a lot," said Pip. "And it made a new friend too." "Friends are better than berries," said Pip. The mouse nodded and smiled all the way home. They were both happy.

Zig was a goblin with a big, loud voice. He stomped when he walked. He shouted when he talked. He made a big noise everywhere he went. One day he stomped past a nest of baby birds. "HELLO!" he shouted. The baby birds jumped in fright. Their feathers shook. They huddled close to their mother. "Why are you so loud?" asked the mother bird. "You scared my babies." Zig felt bad. He walked on. He stomped right past a sleeping hedgehog. "GOOD MORNING!" he shouted. The hedgehog woke with a start and rolled into a tight ball. "Please be quiet," said the hedgehog. "I was having a nice nap." Zig stopped. "I do not mean to be so loud," he said. "I just do not know how to be quiet." "Try soft steps," said the hedgehog. "And a soft voice. Like this." The hedgehog spoke in a tiny, calm voice. "This is a soft voice. Now you try." Zig tried. "Hello," he said, very small and soft. "That is better," said the hedgehog. "Now try soft steps." Zig walked on his tiptoes. Soft, soft, soft. He did not stomp at all. The baby birds relaxed. The hedgehog smiled. "A soft voice shows you care," said Zig. "I will try to be gentle from now on." And he did. Zig still liked to play. But now he played with a soft voice and soft steps. And everyone was glad. "You are learning fast," said the hedgehog. "A quiet friend is a good friend." Zig smiled and tiptoed all the way home.

Mio was walking in the woods. He saw a little hedgehog under a log. It was curled up in a tight ball. "Hello there," said Mio. The hedgehog curled up even tighter. It did not say a word. "Are you okay?" asked Mio. A tiny nose peeked out. Then it went back in. "I am shy," said a small voice. "I do not talk to goblins much." "That is okay," said Mio. "I can wait. I am not in a hurry." Mio sat down near the log. He did not move closer. He just sat quietly and looked at the sky. The hedgehog peeked out a little more. "You are still here," it said. "I am," said Mio. "I like it here. It is quiet and nice." "You are not going to poke me?" asked the hedgehog. "No," said Mio. "I would never. I just want to say hello." Slowly, the hedgehog uncurled. It looked at Mio with small bright eyes. "My name is Hazel," said the hedgehog. "I am Mio," said Mio. "It is nice to meet you, Hazel." Hazel smiled a tiny smile. "You are gentle," she said. "I like that." "Being gentle helps shy friends come out," said Mio. They sat together for a long time. Mio told Hazel about the woods. Hazel told Mio about her favorite berries. "Will you come back tomorrow?" asked Hazel. "Every day," said Mio. "I will always be gentle." And the two of them became the best of friends. Hazel waved with her tiny paw. "See you tomorrow, Mio." Mio smiled. "I will be here. I always keep my word."

Kip was a little goblin. He wanted to climb the tall hill by his house. The hill was very high. The top seemed far away. "I will climb to the top today," said Kip. He started up the hill. He took one step. Then he slipped on a loose stone and slid back down. "Ouch," said Kip. "That did not go well." He tried again. He climbed a little higher. Then he slipped again and tumbled down. "I will never make it," said Kip. "The hill is too tall." His friend Bix came by. "Do not give up," said Bix. "Keep trying and you will get there." "But I keep falling," said Kip. "It is so hard." "Look for the flat stones," said Bix. "Step only on the flat ones. Take your time." Kip stood up. He looked at the hill. He found a flat stone. He stepped on it. Then another. Then another. "I am going slow," said Kip. "But I am going up." He kept going. Step by step, stone by stone. He did not rush. He did not give up. "I am almost there!" said Kip. At last he reached the top. He stood up tall. He could see the whole wide world. The trees, the river, and his little house looked tiny below. "I did it!" said Kip. "I climbed the tall hill!" "You kept trying," said Bix. "And now look at the view." Kip smiled from ear to ear. He had fallen many times. But he did not give up. And that made the top so sweet.

Gia was playing with her friend Toma's toy. It was a little wooden bird on wheels. Gia pulled the string too hard. The wheel broke off. "Oh no!" said Gia. She hid the broken toy behind a rock. Toma came over. "Where is my bird?" she asked. "I want to play with it." "I do not know," said Gia. But her face felt hot. "Did you break it?" asked Toma. "You look scared." Gia looked down. "Yes," she said. "I pulled too hard. The wheel broke. I am so sorry. I was scared to tell you." Toma looked sad. "That bird was my favorite," she said. Gia felt terrible. "I am sorry from my whole heart," she said. "Can I help you fix it?" Toma took a slow breath. "Thank you for telling me," she said. "Saying sorry means a lot." "You forgive me?" asked Gia. "Yes," said Toma. "It was an accident. And you told the truth. That matters more than the toy." Gia felt a warm feeling in her chest. "Let me fix it," she said. They got some glue and a little stick. Gia held the wheel while Toma glued it back on. Soon the bird rolled again. "It works!" said Gia. "Saying sorry can fix a mistake," said Toma. "And now we fixed the toy too." They played with the little bird all afternoon. And Gia never hid a mistake again. "Thank you for forgiving me," said Gia. "Friends forgive," said Toma. "And friends always tell the truth." They hugged and laughed.

Fen was a little goblin who loved to play outside. He loved to run in the grass and chase bugs. One morning he woke up to the sound of rain. Tap, tap, tap on the roof. "I want to go outside!" said Fen. "The rain is ruining my day." "The rain is helping the plants grow," said his mother. "It will stop soon. Just wait." "But I do not want to wait," said Fen. He frowned and stomped his little feet. "Come sit by the window," said his mother. "Watch the rain. It can be nice." Fen sat down, still frowning. He watched the rain fall. The drops slid down the glass. "Look at the drops race," said his mother. Fen watched. Two drops slid down the window. One went fast. One went slow. Fen smiled a little. "The slow one won," he said. "I like watching them." He kept watching. The rain made little rivers on the path. The leaves turned bright green. It was not so bad after all. "See?" said his mother. "Waiting is easier when you find something nice to watch." Soon the rain slowed. Then it stopped. The sun came out from behind the clouds. "Look!" said Fen. "The rain is gone!" He ran outside. And there in the sky was a big, bright rainbow with every color. "A rainbow!" said Fen. "The rain made a rainbow!" "Good things come when you wait," said his mother. Fen smiled. The wait had been worth it. Fen danced under the rainbow. "The wait made it sweeter," he said. "And tomorrow I can play in the grass."

One morning, a big log fell across the path in the goblin village. It was heavy and long. No one could pass. "Oh no," said a goblin. "The log is too big. How will we get to the river?" "I cannot move it alone," said another. A little goblin named Nip stepped up. "Let me try," he said. He pushed the log. It did not move at all. "It is too heavy for one goblin," said Nip. "But maybe we can all push together." "That is a good idea," said a goblin. "Let us all help." More goblins came. They lined up along the log. Nip stood at the front. "Everyone ready?" said Nip. "On the count of three. One, two, three!" They all pushed at the same time. The log moved a little bit. "It is moving!" said Nip. "Push again!" They pushed again. The log rolled a little more. Then a little more. Soon it rolled right off the path. "We did it!" said the goblins. "The path is clear!" "One goblin could not move it," said Nip. "But many hands make a big job small." The goblins cheered. They all walked down the clear path to the river together. "Thank you, everyone," said Nip. "We are strong when we work as a team." And from that day on, the goblins knew that when a job is too big for one, they can always do it together. That night, the goblins talked about their big win. "Together we are strong," said Nip. Everyone nodded with pride.