Red Riding Hood and the Wolf – first pub 2012

Barbara Roberts ♦ 7th August 2019 ♦ 2 Comments

Trigger warning.

She was tripping along the woodland path, picking flowers.

What a beautiful yellow flower!  Its warm yellow color reminds me of how God forgives us for our sins, and how we are to forgive others!  I’ll pick it for Grandma.

And what lovely pink flowers! Look at how they grow in clumps, and cascade so prettily over the rocks!  I’ll pick them too. They remind me of how we are to love one another and live in harmony under God, sharing and caring for each other.

Oh, and see those purple violets hiding near the old tree trunk over there! They remind me of faith – how quiet, how humble, how hidden it is, because the Holy Spirit gives it to us so gently, like the wind which you never know where it comes from or where it is going, but you can sense its results, nestling in people’s hearts and breathing forth a gentle fragrance like those little violets nestling at the foot of the tree. I’ll pick one, just one violet, because I don’t want to disturb them all. And because the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of the One True God, who made me alive – gave me the new birth – by planting Himself my heart.

What big eyes you have Grandma!

That’s because I’ve had such a sad life and have been ill-treated by so many people!

What are you reading Grandma?

(Grandma reaches over to the far bedside table and gets a book that was sitting there.)

This is my journal: I’ve been reading a Bible study book and writing notes in it. Would you like me to read some to you?  Here:– “My life has entered a transition that only You can give. A transition that has unburdened my heart and soul of thoughts of punishment or revenge. This is your domain and I give thanks to you for your understanding that my chains of restraint for your love have been loosened.”

What was that furry thing I saw in the bed when you reached over to get that book, Grandma?

It must be a bit of dog hair. Your mother probably hasn’t washed the sheets very well! I’ve told her she’s not been doing the washing properly! She never listens to me. She’s so lazy.

Why are you wearing gloves, Grandma? And what are those sharp things poking through at the end of you gloves?

Oh, I like to wear these gloves because they’re such nice lace and have pearls on them – and they were made by hand by my Great Aunt Isabella – and the sharp things? Oh that’s some of the old lace-making thread and pearls that have become worn over the years, and are a bit hard now. (She’s pulling the gloves down her fingers while talking, to hide her claws.)

Did you Great Aunt Isabella make your bonnet too, Grandma? It’s a funny shape. It almost looks like you’ve got animal ears underneath it.

Oh dearie, does it really? Maybe you need you eyes tested. I’m sure it looked fine, the last time I looked in the mirror. Really dear, you shouldn’t be so critical of you old Grandma!   Now; what do you have in your basket?

Oh, I have some oil that mother pressed from the olive tree.

That’s good. I like oil. It helps my raspy old voice sound a bit more smooth. Thank you dear!  And what else do you have?

I have a yellow flower, and some pink flowers and one little violet. When I was coming along the path I saw them, and each flower reminded me of a different thing about God. See, the yellow is for forgiveness, and the pink is for how we are all to love each other, and the violet is for the Holy Spirit in our hearts.

How sweet darling! Would you be able to get a vase for them, and I’ll put them on my bedside table?

Certainly, Grandma.

Red Riding Hood trips off to the kitchen to find a vase.

When she comes back, “Grandma” has shed her bonnet, night dress and gloves and is waiting behind the door, every hair erect, slathering at the jowls.  He pounces on Red Riding Hood as soon as she comes in, throws her on the bed and …. (graphic description ends here, for the sake of the reader).

Red Riding Hood is so shocked at first that she cannot think, breathe or speak. But when she finds her voice she says “But Grandma! Where is Grandma! Who are you? I hate you! Go away!”

The wolf snarls with his oily voice “Now, my little one, remember that yellow flower for forgiveness? And those pretty pink ones that tell us we should all love each other? I’m sure the Holy Spirit wouldn’t like you to hate anyone – that would be unforgiving, wouldn’t it?”

This is not a fairy story, so unfortunately I can’t tell you that Red Riding Hood ran out of the house and though the woods and all the way home as quick as her little feet could carry her. She was trapped by the wolf in that bedroom, for a long time. But in the end, she did get free.

***

I published his post in 2012 (link), the first year of the blog.

My visit to my daughter has come to an end, so the frequency of posts will pick up again.