Once, a sweet little girl lived with her mother on the edge of a vast, dark forest. She was the kind of child everyone liked—her mother, of course, adored her, and the neighbours would smile and wave as she skipped by. Always helpful, polite, and full of curiosity, she was made especially memorable by her red cloak; it was a gift from her grandmother – which she sewed herself – and she absolutely loved its hood that framed her bright face. Because of this, everyone called her Little Red Riding Hood.
One morning, as the sun filtered through the trees and birds chirped outside the cottage, Red’s mother – who was cooking something – called her into the kitchen.
“My child, your grandmother isn’t feeling very well,” her mother said, handing her a basket filled with fresh bread, butter, and some honey. “Would you take this to her? It will do her good.”
Her grandmother lived on the other end of the forest, tucked away from the world, in a cosy little house. Red was more than excited to visit her, for she loved hearing her grandmother’s stories. However, before she left, her mother gave her a stern look.
“Remember what I’ve told you, Red,” she warned. “Stay on the path; the forest is full of dangers. Don’t stop to talk to ANYONE,” she insisted, “and don’t wander off.”
Little Red Riding Hood promised she would do exactly as her mother said. And with the basket swinging in her hand and her red cloak fluttering behind her, the little girl set off down the familiar path, wounding through the trees.
For a while, everything was peaceful. The sun warmed the forest floor, and wildflowers dotted the sides of the path. Red hummed a little tune to herself as she walked, imagining the smile on her grandmother’s face seeing her grand-daughter arrive with the treats.
But soon enough, Red felt a strange presence: she stopped in her tracks and glanced around, her heart beating a little faster. From the shadows of the trees, a large wolf stepped out, his yellow eyes gleaming. He was tall and lean, his fur dark as the night, and there was something unsettling about the way he moved—slow and smooth, like a shadow creeping closer.
“Good morning, little girl,” said the wolf in a low, silky voice. “What brings you out so early on this fine day?”
Red wasn’t sure if she should answer, but the wolf’s smile seemed friendly enough, and she was a polite girl.
“Good morning, Mr Wolf; I’m going to pay my grandmother a visit,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “She’s unwell, so I’m bringing her some treats to make her feel better.”
The wolf’s eyes gleamed brighter. “Ah, how thoughtful of you. And where does your dear grandmother live?”
Red hesitated for a moment, but then she pointed down the path. “In the little house by the big oak tree, just at the end of the forest.”
The wolf’s smile widened. “Such a sweet girl, doing such a kind thing. But tell me, little one, why rush? Look at the lovely flowers all around! Surely, your grandmother would love a bouquet. Why not pick some?”
Red looked at the flowers, their bright colours swaying in the breeze. She knew she should stick to the path, just as her mother had told her, but the wolf’s suggestion sounded so harmless and rather sweet. A bunch of wildflowers would make her grandmother even happier, wouldn’t it?
Without giving it much more thought, Red stepped off the path and began gathering the most beautiful flowers she could find, ensuring her bouquet had a variety of colours. Meanwhile, the wolf’s sly grin grew even wider. He slipped away, quick and quiet as a whisper, heading straight for Grandmother’s house.
In no time, the wolf arrived, knocking lightly on the door, his sharp claws tapping the wood.
“Who’s there?” came a feeble voice asked.
“It’s me, Little Red Riding Hood,” the wolf answered in the sweetest voice. “And I’ve brought you some food, Grandmother. Mom has baked you delicious treats.”
“Come in, my dear,” the grandmother replied, her voice weak but with a hint of happiness.
With a wicked grin, the wolf pushed open the door, stepping into the cozy little house. Before the old woman could even scream, the wolf lunged toward her. He was quick, and in no time at all, he had swallowed her whole.
But the wolf wasn’t done yet. He put on the grandmother’s nightcap and shawl, tucked himself into her bed, and waited.
A short while later, Little Red Riding Hood arrived at the house with arms full of flowers and a basket of food swinging at her side. She knocked on the door.
“Who’s there?” came a strange, almost scratchy, voice from inside.
“It’s me, Grandmother, Little Red Riding Hood.”
“Come in, my dear,” the voice said, though it was barely a whisper.
Red pushed open the door and stepped inside, her smile bright. Nevertheless, as she looked at the figure in the bed, something didn’t seem quite right. She took a few steps closer, clutching her basket, and exclaimed,
“Grandmother, why do you have such big ears!?”
“All the better to hear you with, my child,” came the response in a low, gruff voice.
“And… what big eyes!” the little girl was clearly shocked, yet concerned.
“All the better to see you with,” he grinned.
Red took another step closer, her heart pounding now. “Grandmother, why are your teeth so big!?”
The wolf grinned, showing all his sharp, gleaming teeth. “All the better to EAT you with!”
And with that, the wolf leapt out of the bed and lunged for her even before she could scream. But fate had it all planned; the door burst open, and a woodsman, who had heard the commotion while passing by, rushed inside. With one powerful swing of his axe, the woodsman struck the wolf, which sent him crashing to the floor.
The wolf howled once, then lay still.
Red ran to the woodman’s side, trembling with fear and crying. “My grandmother!” she wept. “He ate my grandmother!”
The woodsman knelt beside the wolf’s body, examined something for a while, and then carefully cut it open. To Red’s amazement, her grandmother tumbled out, pale but alive. She had been swallowed whole but was unharmed. The two embraced, tears of relief in their eyes.
“Thank you, Mr Woodsman,” Red whispered to him, her heart still racing.
The woodsman smiled and patted her head. “You’re safe now, little one.”
From that day on, Little Red Riding Hood always listened to her mother’s advice and never, ever wandered off the path again.
