Snuggle in close, little one, because tonight's story begins with a gift — the most special gift a grandmother ever made.
In a cottage at the edge of a great green forest, there lived a girl with bright eyes and a brighter smile, who loved three things more than anything else in the whole world: her mother, her grandmother, and long walks under tall, whispering trees.
One winter, her grandmother — who could sew faster than anyone in the village and hum louder than any kettle — made her a cloak. Not just any cloak. A cloak of the deepest, brightest, most cheerful red you have ever seen, red as strawberries, red as a robin's chest, red as the very first poppy of spring. It had a soft hood that framed her face like a little sunrise.
The girl wore that cloak every single day, rain or shine, until the whole village stopped calling her by her real name at all.
"Good morning, Red Riding Hood!" the baker would call.
"Off to the woods again, Red Riding Hood?" the miller would laugh.
And Red — because that is simply what everyone called her now, and she loved it — would wave her basket and skip on by.
Now, Red's grandmother lived on the other side of the forest, in a snug little cottage with a crooked chimney and a garden absolutely bursting with sunflowers. Grandma had been feeling a bit poorly that week — just a small cough, nothing scary, the kind you get when autumn winds first turn chilly — and so, one bright morning, Red's mother packed a basket.
Into the basket went: a warm loaf of bread, still steaming. A little jar of golden honey. A wedge of soft cheese wrapped in cloth. Six ripe red apples. And, tucked at the very top, a small paper bag of Grandma's favourite peppermint drops.
"Red, my darling," said her mother, tying the ribbon of the red cloak snugly under her chin, "I need you to carry this basket to Grandma's house. She isn't feeling well, and a visit from you will do her more good than any medicine."
"Yes, Mama!" said Red, already bouncing on her toes with excitement.
Her mother knelt down and held both of Red's hands. "Now listen carefully, because this part is important. The path through the forest is safe, so long as you stay ON the path. Do not wander off to pick flowers, however pretty they look. Do not stop to chase butterflies, however sparkly their wings. And most of all —" here her mother's voice grew soft and serious — "if you meet anyone in the forest, anyone at all, be polite, but do not tell strangers where you are going or where Grandma lives. Do you understand, my clever girl?"
Red nodded so hard her hood nearly slipped off. "Stay on the path. Don't wander. Don't tell strangers where Grandma lives. I promise, Mama!"
Her mother kissed her forehead, tucked one last apple into the basket "for the road," and off Red went, her red cloak swishing like a little flame against the green of the forest.
Oh, and what a forest it was, little one! Tall oak trees stretched their branches overhead like they were holding hands across the sky. Soft green moss grew fuzzy on every fallen log. Birds sang good morning from every branch, and somewhere close by, a brook chattered happily over smooth round stones.
Red walked along, humming the same little tune her grandmother always hummed, swinging her basket, and greeting every creature she passed. "Good morning, Mr. Rabbit!" she called to a fat brown rabbit twitching his nose by a bush. "Good morning, Mrs. Bluebird!" she sang to a bird building her nest. Even the squirrels, usually much too busy for hellos, paused on their branches to wave a tiny paw at the cheerful girl in red.
Red loved this walk more than almost anything. She knew every bend in the path, every mossy stone, every low branch to duck under. She had walked to Grandma's a hundred times before, and never once had anything gone wrong.
But today, my little dreamer, today was going to be a little different.
Because today, hidden behind a wide old oak tree just around the very next bend, two clever golden eyes were watching her red cloak come closer... and closer... and a sly smile was already spreading across a furry face.
Sweet dreams, little one. Tomorrow night, we find out exactly who those golden eyes belong to — and what happens when a clever girl in a red cloak meets someone even more clever than she expects.