Telling Kids The Truth

Arthur Fordham c1902

So a few nights ago I'm reading Little Red Riding Hood to my kids; one in a line of many, many earlier versions. I get to that part where the wolf eats grandma....when my four-year-old son, still learning to read, interrupts, "don't you mean she hid in the closet?" I'm dumbfounded for a second, and then I remember vaguely that later versions of this famed story involve grandma and a closet.

I could do what most American parents I know would like do, and move the story right along for the sake of my audience and be mortified that such a politically-incorrect version of the book made its way into our sacred library. God knows I was tempted. Especially since my three-year-old nephew was also present. However, I've made it a policy to tell my kids the truth in a manner they will comprehend so matter how risqué the question.

"Noooo," I finally replied. "The wolf ate grandma." My index finger tracing below the words. My daughter, an excellent reader, nodded in agreement. When he protested that the version he knew about from TV involved a closet, I went on to explain that in the original version, the wolf actually ate grandma. I then explained to the kids, in their language, that sometimes there are different versions of a story to match the changing times in the world and how people feel about things.

Parenting in America today, and life in general, isn't like what it was when the original Little Red Riding Hood was printed. So there's this valid tendency to want to protect our children at all costs.
I believe we can do this by telling our children the truth, at a level and manner that they can comprehend, even if not fully. It's a muscle we as parents and all who care for and love children, have to exercise for it to become part of our conditioning. I wasn't so smooth my first time with my pal Curious George, but I had to start somewhere too.

I'm glad for my choice because next, the wolf (I totally forgot) eats Little Red too! Finally, the woodsman kills the wolf (oh dear) with his ax, freeing both grandma and Little Red (whew). I could hear my parental alarms blaring as I read, but I kept repeating to myself, you and millions of children once read (or were read) the same story, and the world didn't end.

Better a truth that fosters a difficult but necessary conversation, and path to a critical understanding of the world, than a lie that slowly but eventually erodes trust.