Cool Things My Kids and I Have Learned From the Brothers Grimm

As I've written about previously, we have a nightly ritual of telling a story from Grimms or another source of old tales in bed after the lights are out.  Lately I've really been appreciating the stories that Walt Disney never made into paeans to female passivity.  Stories like "The Prince and the Princess," in which a kind-hearted, magical princess saves her beloved from death and capture six different times and wins his hand in marriage only after making her way in the world as a miller's assistant.  Or Hans Christian Andersen's "Wild Swans," in which a young woman endures hardship with courage and perseverance in order to free her eleven brothers from a curse. 

And there are also wonderful male heroes, too, like the basket-maker's apprentice in the story "The Three Wishes" who gives up his three fairy-granted wishes to make other people happy and healthy--and then he ends up getting the three things he would have wished for anyway, just not in the way he expected.  

I've noticed a few common lessons and themes in many of the stories:

1.  If a character is introduced who is derided by his family and the other townsfolk as a blockhead, he will be the one to perform heroic deeds, marry the princess, and some day rule the kingdom wisely and well.  

2.  A wish made with other people's welfare in mind usually turns out much, much better than a wish made thinking only of one's self.

3.  What looks like bad luck often turns to good luck.

4.  What looks like good luck often turns to bad luck.

5.  Happiness requires venturing into the unknown, enduring crushing setbacks and obstacles, and taking enormous risks.

The other day at the kitchen table, Cassidy stated that she wanted to be a princess when she grew up.  She, Bridger, and I started brainstorming the best ways for her to become a fairy-tale princess.  She could fall into a magical coma; she could disguise herself as a humble servant but be on the look-out for a fairy godmother. 

"But the main way to become a princess," Bridger pointed out, "is to be enchanting at a ball."

I spent so many years of my life thinking if only a guy loved me, my life would begin.  Then, later, I thought my life hadn't really begun, or at least wasn't a real "adult" life, because I hadn't accomplished the things I thought I should have accomplished. 

My hope for Cassidy?  That she recognizes her own sovereignty from the very beginning, without waiting for anyone to hand power to her, without waiting for some outside marker to tell her "Now you've arrived."