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Winner: Hansel's and Gretel's cardigan
By Judith Kingston




Hansel and Gretel staggered back into the cottage. Gretel almost buckled under the weight of her now rather large brother and heaved him onto the nearest chair with a sigh of relief. She sat down on the chair opposite, the one belonging to her cruel mother. The brother and sister looked at each other for a moment.

On the way home, they'd been so hopeful. All those riches they'd found in the witch's house stuffed in their pockets — they'd been sure that their parents would give them a warm welcome this time. But when they had to cross the river, the duck had refused to carry them.

“Nope,” it quacked, “You're too heavy.”

“Please,” Gretel had pleaded, “You look so big and strong, surely you can carry us both?”

The duck had preened its feathers at the flattery and polished its beak until it was extra shiny. “Well, you are right, I am big and strong. I could maybe carry you children, one by one, but not all that treasure. Gold is heavy, you know.”

Gretel tried again: “Then can you do three trips, one for each of us and another for the treasure? You are the finest duck on the river.”

Although the duck had been tempted, it was too aware of its limitations to agree to this plan. “Sorry”, it had said ruefully. “Decision's final. You'll have to choose: the treasure or the fat kid. I'm not doing both.”

After a moment of painful deliberation, Gretel finally decided that family came first. But that did mean they had arrived home empty-handed. No fairytale ending seemed in store, just a house with bare floorboards and cupboards. Gretel sighed again as she studied her brother's rotund figure.

“What do we do now?” she asked. Their parents were out at the moment. The two axes, normally resting next to the fireplace, were gone. But soon they would be back and Mother would not be pleased to find her children at home.

“I think I'm cured of eating,” Hansel groaned. “They certainly don't need to worry about my mouth to feed.”

“Yes, jogging for you. And no more food. For a while at least.”

Hansel just nodded. The mere thought of food was enough to make him feel sick. Gretel stared at the cold, empty fireplace. She was hungry and scared. They were home, but they were still not safe. What if their parents tried to lose them again? Who knows what evil they might meet this time?

“Well, there's only one thing for it,” she finally said out loud.

“What is that?” her brother asked suspiciously.

“This time, we need to be prepared.” Gretel got up and started opening cupboards and drawers. Hansel looked on in confusion as she came back with some paper, a piece of charcoal, a variety of knitting needles and some straggly wool.

“I know, I know!” Hansel cried excitedly, “We're going to stab mother with the needles, then string her up with the wool and leave a fake suicide note for father!”

His suggestion fell on stony silence. Hansel cleared his throat and had the decency to look ashamed of himself. “Er, right, you tell me: what's the plan?”

Gretel smoothed out the paper on a rickety table and pulled up her chair. “We're going to make ourselves a nice big cardigan to keep warm in the forest. If we're comfy, we won't be so desperate. We can think more clearly and find the way home!”

Hansel snorted. “We'll never find enough wool to make two cardigans. Anyway, you'd be knitting for months!”

Gretel gave him a look. “Knitting isn't just for girls, you know. In this day and age it is a very respectable pastime for boys as well.”

“We still wouldn't have enough wool,” Hansel persisted.

Gretel thought about it for a moment and then started to sketch. Hansel pulled his chair closer so he could see what his sister was up to. Slowly, her plan became clear: one big cardigan that they could both fit into! Despite himself, he started suggesting additions and changes: he wanted a more manly collar on his side of the cardigan, and they would need big pockets to smuggle pebbles or coins in, and perhaps, he suggested, there could be an inside pocket for a map of some sort.

The two children were so absorbed in their design that they didn't notice the door to the cottage opening. It wasn't until they heard a suppressed sob behind them that they turned around and saw their dad. He was alone, in tears, and his pockets were bulging with treasure! Hansel and Gretel leapt into his arms.

It was a while before they had all calmed down enough to exchange stories. Father listened in amazement to his children, marvelling at their ingenuity and courage. Then he told them what had happened that day. He had gone into the woods with his wife, as usual. This time, they followed a different path to normal, veering off to the west in the direction of the river. When they arrived at the river, the children's mother had noticed something sparkling on the other side. As they came closer, it became clear that there was a pile of gold, pearls and precious stones just lying in the grass on the river bank. Greedy as she was, the woman had rushed headlong into the water with disastrous results. The strong current had borne her away before she could get to the gold she had spied and with a gurgle she went under, never to be seen again.

The kind-hearted father grieved for his wife, but as he sat crying by the water's edge, a duck swam up to him. The duck, worried at his distress, offered to bring the poor woodcutter the treasure, thinking it might alleviate his worries. And so their father had returned home, with all the world's wealth but thinking his family was lost forever!

The children laughed and cried and showed their father the plan they had made in case they were left in the forest again. He promised life would be different from now on, but insisted they made the cardigan anyway. It was too beautiful not to.

“But,” their father said, “That scraggly wool won't do at all. We will go to farmer Bauer next door and get the best alpaca yarn he's got!”

And they all knitted happily ever after!



 
 
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