There’s nothing quite like turning off all the gadgets, lighting a cozy campfire, and settling in with your family to share a few special moments.
Campfire stories are a long held tradition that many families cherish.
The art of good storytelling is vastly underrated – remember when you were a kid and you begged your parents to “do the voices” when they read to you? As you share these stories with your family, get into the story! It doesn’t even matter if you don’t remember all the details. Part of the fun is making it your own.
Campfire Stories For Kids
These stories are perfect for sharing with your little ones! They’re just the right amount of campfire creepy, but won’t give your kids nightmares afterwards.
Rap, Rap, Rapping…
When I was a young man, my grandmother passed away and I inherited her house. It was a big, creaky, drafty house with a cold, dark attic that had always scared me a little bit as a kid. Now that I was all grown up, I knew there was nothing at all to be afraid of.
On my first night in the house, I spent most of the day just cleaning up. There were cobwebs everywhere and all the doors creaked, and even though I was all grown up, it was still a little bit creepy. I don’t know how grandma could stand living there all those years. That house was like the haunted mansion.
While the sun was up, I wasn’t really afraid at all. I was just a little bit creeped out. When the sun went down and it got dark, though, things got a lot scarier. I decided to just go to bed in my old room at the top of the stairs.
That room was right under the drafty, dusty attic that had scared me so much as a little boy. Still, I had great memories of spending the night in that room when I was visiting my dear grandma, so even though the house was dark and kind of spooky, I was excited about sleeping in my old bed and remembering the good times.
Except I couldn’t get to sleep. All night long, I was hearing this rap, rap, rapping sound in the attic above my head. It gave me the shivers, it was so creepy! I couldn’t imagine what was going on up there.
Finally, after hours of lying in bed listening to that rap, rap, rapping right above me in the attic, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I got up, got the flashlight, and pulled down the rickety old attic steps. As soon as I opened the trap door that led up to the attic, I could hear it so much louder. Rap. Rap. RAP.
My heart was pounding as I climbed up the ladder, even though I knew there was probably nothing to be afraid of. The sound just kept going, rap, rap, rapping as I stuck my head into the attic and shined the flashlight around. It smelled like moldy old clothes and dust up there, and there were spiderwebs and mouse droppings everywhere. Finally, I got up the courage to climb all the way up into the attic.
Over in the far corner against the wall, there was a great big old chest covered in a thick layer of grime. That’s where the rap, rap, rapping sound was coming from! The closer I got, the louder it was – rap, rap, rap. Slowly, I reached down, grabbed the huge, rusty latch, and with a loud creak, I pulled the chest open.
That’s when I saw it, and I knew exactly what was causing that terrifying rap, rap, rapping.
It was an old roll of wrapping paper.
A long time ago, before cars and trains and planes were available, a poor young couple was traveling home on foot. They had to walk through a thick forest to get back to their little farmhouse, and although they were nervous about the long walk through the woods, there was no way around.
They knew there was an inn somewhere along this road deep in the forest, and they planned to stay the night once they reached it. After hours of walking, though, they still hadn’t found the inn, and it was getting dark and cold. Just a little bit further, they kept saying, but at each turn of the road, they looked ahead and there was no inn anywhere to be seen.
To make matters worse, a storm blew in while they were trudging along. Now, the young couple was cold and wet, lost in the dark with nowhere to go. They hurried down the road, and when they saw a light ahead, the knew it must be the inn!
Soon enough, they realized that the light wasn’t the inn at all, but a big house with a warm, inviting lantern in the window. After talking it over, the couple decided that they would knock on the door and ask how far ahead the inn was, even just to get out of the rain and the wind for a second.
A sweet elderly lady opened the door for them and invited them inside.
“Please,” they asked, “could you tell us how far away the inn is? We’ve been walking all day, and we’re cold and wet and hungry.”
“Oh, the inn is just a little ways up the road, but in weather like this, they’re probably all filled up!” replied the sweet old woman. “You should just stay here for the night. I insist!”
The couple tried to politely refuse, but the lady wouldn’t take no for an answer. She brought them into a warm kitchen where her husband, a kind old gentleman, was enjoying a meal. They shared a delicious dinner, and when the young couple offered to pay, the old man wouldn’t hear of it.
“We don’t need any money nowadays,” the old man laughed.
After dinner, the couple slept soundly in a warm feather bed, and they woke early in the morning to a silent house. They guessed that their hosts must still be asleep, and in thanks for their dinner and a place to sleep for the night, they left a bright fifty cent piece sitting on the kitchen table before heading back out to continue their walk home.
Soon, they reached the inn and found it just as busy as the old couple predicted. They decided to stop for breakfast, and while they ate their porridge, they told the innkeeper about the sweet man and lady who took them in for the night.
The innkeeper looked troubled. “There’s no house near here,” he insisted. “There used to be one about a half a mile distant, right where you describe, but it burned down more than a year ago. The people who lived there, an older lady and gent just like you said, died in the fire.”
The young man shook his head. “You’re wrong,” he said. “We were just in a house there. I’ll show you where it is!”
Together, the three of them walked up the road to the house where the young couple had spent the night. Just as the innkeeper had said, all that stood there was a blackened ruin. When the young woman saw the burnt remains of the kitchen table, she cried out in fear, and the young man pulled her away quickly. The innkeeper went to look at what had made her so upset, and sitting on the charred kitchen table, there was a bright and shiny fifty cent piece glittering in the morning sun.
A guy decides he wants to go hiking in the mountains, so he gets all his gear together and drives out to a little outpost. At the general store, he stops in to get a few last minute supplies. He gets a water canteen, a camp lantern, and a coil of rope so that he’s prepared for anything, but he doesn’t see bear bells anywhere.
“Say, mister,” he says to the clerk, “do you have bears around here?”
“Yes, of course,” the clerk says, not wanting to be bothered.
“What kind?” the hiker asks.
“Black bears and grizzlies,” replies the clerk.
The hiker shudders. “So do you have any bear bells in here?”
“What do you mean, bear bells?” asks the clerk.
“You know what they are,” the hiker replies. “They’re bells you wear when you’re going to be out in bear country so that the bears know you’re coming, and you don’t get attacked.”
The clerk rolls his eyes. “Oh, THOSE. Yeah, they’re over on the souvenir rack,” he says, pointing to a shelf in the corner.
Arms loaded with stuff, the hiker chooses a set of bear bells and piles up his stuff on the counter. While the clerk is ringing everything up, the hiker leans forwards and asks, “Hey, mister, how can you tell when you’re in bear territory?”
“By the scat,” the clerk replies, still ringing up the hiker’s purchases.
Nodding, the hiker asks, “But how do you tell the difference between grizzly scat and black bear scat?”
“By what’s in the scat,” the clerk answers irritably.
“What’s in black bear scat?” the hiker continues as he pays for all his hiking stuff.
Picking up his magazine, the clerk snorts in frustration. “Seeds and grains.”
“And what’s in grizzly scat?” asks the hiker, finally on his way out the door.
The clerk looks up and scowls at the hiker. “Bear bells.”