Long ago, the colours of the world were not part of anything big or beautiful. They lived alone: each a single bold line stretched across their own corner of the world. Red glowed over deserts. Green shimmered in jungles. Blue waved over oceans. And the others, Orange, Yellow, Indigo, and Violet, each had their own faraway place to shine.
Sometimes, the colours would swap places, zipping across the skies like streaks of paint. And sometimes, they would all find themselves drawn to the same place, right at the top of the world, the Arctic, where the ice sparkled like glass and the sky was wide and clear.
There, they would gather in a great swirling dance, and without fail, the quarrelling would begin.
“I should be first!” barked Red. “I burn the brightest!”
Yellow giggled, “But I bring joy! Everyone smiles when they see me.”
“I’m cool and calm,” said Blue, “and I stretch farther than all of you.”
“I’m the softest,” whispered Indigo.
“I sparkle the most!” sang Violet, twirling dramatically.
Green just sighed, “I’m tired of this every time…”
So they argued, twisting and turning above the snow, until their shouts echoed through the empty sky.
Then, one day, a gentle rain began to fall, silent at first, like tiny whispers. Pitter-patter, plip-plop. The raindrops fell all around the colours as they spun and sulked in the sky.
Rain didn’t scold. It simply said, “Why don’t you try something different today? Just line up side by side.”
The colours grumbled, “Fine.” But the moment they tried, the squabbling started again.
“I go first!”
“No, me!”
“You always take the middle!”
Rain chuckled softly. “Shhh, just listen. Do you hear that?”
The colours stopped.
A breeze began to hum, soft and swirling. The Wind had joined them.
Rain smiled. “Let the wind guide you. Don’t think. Just drift.”
And so, with curious hearts, the colours let go. Slowly, they floated into place, not pushed, not ordered. They simply listened. The wind cradled them gently, lifting and placing each one in a perfect arch across the sky.
Red came first, bold and proud. Orange followed, warm and glowing. Then came Yellow, bright as laughter. Green, steady and calm. Blue, deep and peaceful. Indigo, quiet and mysterious. And Violet, last, soft as a lullaby.
Together, they formed a ribbon of light unlike anything the world had ever seen. It arched gracefully across the sky, glowing through the mist and shimmering with quiet magic.
The rainbow looked like a bridge made of silk and sunlight, stretched across the heavens. Its colours pulsed like a heartbeat. It danced above mountaintops, glowed over valleys, and shimmered in puddles.
People down below gasped and pointed. Birds sang louder. Even the polar bears stopped to stare.
From that day on, whenever rain meets sun and the wind is just right, the colours return.
And though they still like to tease each other now and then, they remember the magic they can make, if only they drift together.
And that, dear dreamer, is how the very first rainbow came to be.