Little Red Riding Hood

Once upon a time, in a quiet village at the edge of a big forest, there lived a sweet girl named Lily. She was kind, cheerful, and helpful to everyone. But what made her most special was the red hooded cloak her grandmother had sewn for her. She wore it so often that people began to call her Little Red Riding Hood, and the name stuck.

Lily lived with her mother in a small cottage filled with the smell of fresh bread and wildflowers. Her grandmother, whom she loved dearly, lived alone on the other side of the forest. One sunny morning, Lily’s mother called her into the kitchen.

“Your grandmother isn’t feeling well,” her mother said, handing Lily a basket. Inside were warm muffins, a jar of honey, and some herbal tea. “Take this to her, and please stay on the path. Don’t talk to strangers.”

Lily nodded. “I will, Mama.”

She put on her red cloak, picked up the basket, and set off. The forest path was lined with tall trees and chirping birds. Sunlight trickled through the leaves, making the world feel like a painting. Lily hummed to herself as she walked, thinking about how happy her grandmother would be when she saw the treats.

But deep in the woods, someone else was watching.

A wolf.

This was not an ordinary wolf. He was clever and sly, with sharp teeth and even sharper ideas. He had been roaming the forest, looking for something tasty to eat. When he spotted Lily walking alone with a basket in her hands, he became curious.

“Where is that little girl going all by herself?” the wolf wondered. He stepped quietly onto the path, pretending to be friendly.

“Good morning,” he said with a fake smile.

Lily stopped. She remembered what her mother said about not talking to strangers, but the wolf didn’t look dangerous. Just… hungry. And a little too interested.

“Good morning,” Lily replied carefully.

“Where are you off to on such a lovely day?” asked the wolf.

“I’m going to visit my grandmother. She’s not feeling well,” Lily said, deciding it was polite to answer.

“Oh dear,” the wolf said, pretending to be concerned. “Is her house far from here?”

“Not too far,” Lily said. “Just past the old mill, near the wildflower meadow.”

The wolf’s eyes lit up, but he kept his cool. “How sweet of you to bring her something. You must be a very good granddaughter.”

Lily smiled. She did like helping others. “Thank you.”

The wolf had a sneaky plan. He wanted to eat both Lily and her grandmother, but he knew he had to be smart about it. So he said, “Why don’t you pick some flowers for her? I’m sure that would cheer her up.”

Lily looked around. There were lots of pretty flowers by the path. Her grandmother loved wildflowers.

“You’re right! That’s a great idea,” she said. She stepped off the path and began picking a bouquet.

While Lily was distracted, the wolf darted down a shortcut he knew and raced straight to the grandmother’s house.

When he arrived, he knocked on the door.

“Who’s there?” came a weak voice from inside.

“It’s me, Little Red Riding Hood,” the wolf said in a high voice, trying to sound like Lily.

“Oh, come in, dear,” the grandmother said.

The wolf pushed open the door. The moment he stepped inside, the old woman gasped. “You’re not my granddaughter!”

Before she could move, the wolf grabbed her. But instead of eating her right away, he had another idea. He tied her up gently and put her in the closet. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you—yet,” he said with a grin. “I’m saving room for dessert.”

Then the wolf put on one of the grandmother’s nightgowns and her nightcap. He even found her glasses and perched them on his nose. Finally, he climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin.

Not long after, Lily arrived with her basket and bouquet.

She knocked on the door. “Grandma? It’s me, Lily!”

“Come in, dear,” said the wolf, trying to sound like an old lady.

Lily opened the door and stepped inside. Something felt… off. The house was darker than usual. It smelled musty, not like her grandmother’s normal lavender and herbs. She tiptoed over to the bed and looked at the figure lying there.

“Grandma?” she asked.

“Yes, dear,” said the wolf. “Come closer.”

Lily frowned. “Grandma, what big ears you have!”

“All the better to hear you with,” the wolf said.

“And what big eyes you have!”

“All the better to see you with,” he replied.

“And… what big teeth you have!”

The wolf’s eyes gleamed. “All the better to eat you with!”

He leapt out of bed and lunged at Lily. She screamed and dropped the basket.

But just as the wolf was about to grab her, the front door burst open.

It was a woodcutter—a tall man with strong arms and a sharp axe. He had been passing through the woods when he heard strange noises from the cottage.

“Stop right there!” the woodcutter shouted.

The wolf turned, surprised. He growled, but the woodcutter stepped forward, fierce and fearless. With a loud bark, the wolf turned and tried to run. But the woodcutter chased him out the door and into the trees. The wolf disappeared into the forest and never came back.

Lily ran to the closet and opened it. “Grandma!”

Her grandmother stepped out, a little shaky but unharmed. “Oh, Lily! Thank goodness you’re safe!”

They hugged tightly. Lily was still catching her breath when the woodcutter came back inside.

“Are you both alright?” he asked.

“We are now,” Lily said. “Thank you so much!”

The grandmother smiled kindly. “You saved us.”

The woodcutter nodded. “Just doing my job. But next time, young lady, be careful who you talk to in the forest.”

Lily blushed. “I will. I promise.”

She gave the basket of treats to her grandmother, and they sat down to enjoy some muffins and tea together. The wildflower bouquet sat in a vase on the table, bright and cheerful.

That day, Lily learned a big lesson: Sometimes, things—and people—are not what they seem. It’s important to be kind, but it’s just as important to be smart and careful.

From that day on, Lily always stayed on the path and never talked to strangers. The wolf was never seen again, and peace returned to the forest.

And every time her grandmother looked at the vase of wildflowers, she smiled—grateful for the brave girl in the red cloak who had brought more than just muffins. She had brought love, courage, and a story worth remembering.

The End