She lived with her mother and grandmother in a little village by the edge of a dark forest“>forest.
Everyone who knew her loved her.
Her mother did love her. Her grandmother loved her very much. Even the few neighbors who hardly knew her name would smile as she passed.
She had one of those faces: open and bright and utterly guileless, the sort of face that makes you feel the world is a slightly better place for having been in it.
Grandma had once made her a red cloak with a hood that tied under her chin. The girl liked it so much she wore it every day thereafter, in spring and summer and winter and fall until everyone just called her Little Red Riding Hood.
She did not object.
One day her mother took her away from her dollhouse with a serious face and brought her into the kitchen where a basket was covered by a plain white cloth. “Your grandmother is sick,” her mother said, tightening the cloth more around the basket handles. Inside was warm bread and a small pot of butter, and honey still warm from the jar. “Please, take this to her. Follow the path through the woods, stay on the path, and do not stop to talk to strangers. “Will you do that for me?
The Little Red Riding Hood nodded solemnly. She took the handles in both hands and hugged her mother around the waist, kissing her cheek, before setting out down the dusty road toward the forest.
Grandmother lived on the other side of those trees–not far if you were not silly and went straight through the path. It was a wide road and Little Red Riding Hood had often walked it.
She knew the route like the back of her hand.
And within the first ten minutes carelessly disregarded her mother’s instructions.
~
Birdsong flitted from tree to tree that morning. Sunlight poured through the canopy above in columns of gold dust, casting everything in a beautiful shade of yellow.
Little Red Riding Hood sauntered through the forest, enjoying the flowers that grew along the edges of the path.
Bright wildflowers in patches of yellow and white and pale blue dotted the edges of the dirt road.
She slowed. Stopped. And eventually jumped off the path entirely to pluck a fistful of flowers for grandmother, wondering how much grandmother would love them.
That was when she noticed him.
“Good morning, little girl.”
Little Red Riding Hood whirled around.
A wolf stood behind her on the path, silently observing her. Big and grey with yellow eyes and that lopsided smile that revealed more teeth than one ought to be able to fit in their mouth. He stood casually with his legs wide, teeth gleaming.
As if he were just passing through and decided to pause for her benefit.
Little Red Riding Hood wasn’t afraid of wolves — not yet, anyway. So instead of turning and running, she smiled back at him.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Were you going somewhere on such a beautiful morning?” Wolf asked around a mouthful of teeth.
“I’m going to my grandmother’s house,” she replied without hesitation. “Just through the forest, past the three oak trees. Her house has a red door. She isn’t feeling so well today so I’m bringing her this bread and butter and honey.”
Wolf nodded thoughtfully, still smiling.
“What a good child you are,” he said. “I hope she’ll be feeling better soon.”
He turned and walked away into the trees.
Little Red Riding Hood picked her flowers and returned to the path happy that the wolf had been so nice.
She didn’t notice he was already far ahead of her, running.
—
The wolf knew the forest better than she did. Better than anyone did. He knew the shortcuts and the back ways and quickest way between any two places, and he ran full tilt through the trees until he reached grandmother’s little house with the red door long before Red Riding Hood might even manage it.
He knocked.
Inside a frail, tired voice called back,
**WHO IS THERE? **
**IT IS ME GRANDMOTHER,** said the wolf, making his voice as small and little as possible. **LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD. I BRING BREAD AND BUTTER AND HONEY. **
The door swung open.
The wolf smiled that wide smile of his.
The grandmother, to her great credit, tried her best to bolt from the bed and run. But he was quicker than she. Wolf caught her easily and stuffed her into the large wardrobe at the side of the room before shutting the door tight. He did not hurt her. Not then, anyway. Even wolves are allowed limits, in the best stories like these.
He put on her spare nightcap and her spare bed jacket. He climbed into her bed and pulled the covers up around his chin and waited.
—
Little Red Riding Hood came knocking at the red door of grandmother’s house not much later.
‘COME IN MY DEAR,’ said a fat, unfamiliar voice from inside.
Little Red Riding Hood opened the door and entered the dark bedroom. Holding her basket in one arm. Still clutching the flowers with her free hand. Sitting in her grandmother’s bed was- her grandmother! Blankets pulled up over her knees. Curtains half drawn at the window.
Little Red Riding Hood cautiously approached.
Everything looked wrong. She couldn’t identify how. But it looked odd.
Little Red Riding Hood stared suspiciously at her grandmother.
‘**GRANDMOTHER,**’ she said, eyeing him closely ‘**WHAT BIG EARS YOU HAVE. **’
‘**ALL THE BETTER TO HEAR YOU WITH MY DEAR,**’ the wolf grumbled from beneath the blankets.
Little Red Riding Hood took a step closer.
‘**GRANDMOTHER,**’ she continued, glaring suspiciously at him. ‘**WHAT BIG EYES YOU HAVE. **’
‘**ALL THE BETTER TO SEE YOU WITH MY DEAR,**’ the wolf snarled.
Little Red Riding Hood moved right up next to her Grandmother’s bed. She placed her flowers into her free hand. Holding them tightly against her chest.
Slowly Little Red Riding Hood said, ‘**WHAT BIG TEETH YOU HAVE, GRANDMOTHER. **’
The wolf pulled the blankets away from him.
ALL THE BETTER TO EAT YOU WITH, MY DEAR.
Little Red Riding Hood screamed.
—
The woodsman happened to be coming through that stretch of woods this particular afternoon. He had his lunch packed on his back, axe slung over his shoulder, heading home to eat. Heard the scream and burst through grandmother’s door two seconds later, sized up the situation, and dealt with it with such ruthless efficiency you know he’s been doing that sort of thing his whole life in the woods.
The wolf looked at this brute of a man much larger than he or the grandmother and quite probably capable of beating him with one hand tied behind his back. Sensible wolves do the sensible thing and ran. Wolf ran into the forest so fast, and so far, that none of the people in that village ever saw him again.
The woodcutter swung open the wardrobe door. Grandma emerged. Still wearing her nightcap. Shaken. Unhurt. Thankful to be alive. Thankful to see her hero. Delivered several emphatic punches to the wolf’s torso as he disappeared beyond the trees. And then set about making tea because that’s what she did. That’s what kind of woman she was.
Little Red Riding Hood dumped her basket on the kitchen table. Bread and butter and honey fresh from the basket. Took her flowers and set them in a glass of water on the windowsill to catch the late afternoon sun.
All three sat down together and enjoyed some tea.
—
Little Red Riding Hood never again left the path through the woods when she walked to grandmother’s house. On her way home that evening she thought about it. Wondered how close she had come.
She stayed on the path.
The whole way.
—
*The End. *
*Goodnight. Sleep well. * 🌙
If you want to read more like this, click here: Snow White
