The Three Bears
Once upon a time, there were three bears. They all lived together in the forest, in their own house. One of them was a tiny little baby bear, another was a medium-sized bear, and the third was a big, burly bear. Each had their own porridge bowl: the tiny little baby bear had a small bowl, the medium-sized bear had a medium bowl, and the big, burly bear had a huge bowl. Each bear sat in their own chair: the tiny little baby bear in a small chair, the medium-sized bear in a medium chair, and the big, burly bear in a huge chair. And they each slept in their own bed: the tiny little baby bear in a small bed, the medium-sized bear in a medium bed, and the big, burly bear in a huge bed.One day, the bears cooked themselves some porridge for breakfast, poured it into their bowls, and went for a walk in the forest to let the porridge cool—they didn’t want to eat it hot, or it would burn their mouths.
While they were out walking, a little old woman came up to the house. She wasn’t a very good old woman: first, she peeked through the window, then through the keyhole. Seeing that no one was home, she lifted the latch. The door wasn’t locked—the bears never locked it because they were kind bears: they never hurt anyone and didn’t expect to be hurt themselves.
So the little old woman opened the door and went inside. And how delighted she was when she saw the porridge on the table! If she had been a good old woman, she would have waited for the bears, and they probably would have shared their breakfast with her. After all, they were good bears, a bit rough like all bears, but kind-hearted and hospitable. But the old woman was no good—she was shameless and started eating without permission.
First, she tried the porridge from the huge bowl of the big, burly bear, but it was too hot, and the old woman said, “Yuck!” Then she tasted the porridge from the medium-sized bear’s bowl, but it was too cold, and she said again, “Yuck!” Finally, she tried the porridge from the tiny little baby bear’s bowl. This porridge was just right—not too hot, not too cold—and the little old woman liked it so much that she gobbled it all up, cleaning the bowl to the very bottom. But even this porridge she called a bad word: the bowl was too small, and there wasn’t enough porridge for her.
Then the old woman sat in the big, burly bear’s chair, but it was too hard. She moved to the medium-sized bear’s chair, but it was too soft. Finally, she plopped down in the tiny little baby bear’s chair, and it was just right—not too hard, not too soft. She sat in that chair, rocking back and forth until—crash!—she broke the seat and fell to the floor. The nasty old woman got up and cursed the chair.
Next, the old woman ran upstairs to the bedroom where the three bears slept. First, she lay down on the big, burly bear’s bed, but it was too high at the head. Then she lay on the medium-sized bear’s bed, but it was too high at the foot. Finally, she lay down on the tiny little baby bear’s bed, and it was just right—not too high at the head or the foot. The old woman snuggled in and fell fast asleep.
Meanwhile, the bears decided that the porridge must have cooled and returned home for breakfast. The big, burly bear looked at his huge bowl and saw a spoon in it—left there by the old woman. And he roared in his loud, rough, scary voice:
“SOMEONE’S BEEN EATING MY PORRIDGE!”
The medium-sized bear looked at his bowl and saw a spoon in it too.
The bears’ spoons were wooden—if they had been silver, the nasty old woman would surely have pocketed them.
And the medium-sized bear said in his not-too-loud, not-too-quiet, medium voice:
“SOMEONE’S BEEN EATING MY PORRIDGE!”
And the tiny little baby bear looked at his little bowl and saw a spoon in it, but the porridge was all gone. And he squeaked in his tiny, thin, quiet voice:
“Someone’s been eating my porridge and ate it all up!”
Then the bears realized that someone had broken into their house and eaten all the tiny little baby bear’s porridge. They began searching for the thief in every corner. The big, burly bear noticed that the hard pillow in his chair was crooked—the old woman had moved it when she jumped up. And he roared in his loud, rough, scary voice:
“SOMEONE’S BEEN SITTING IN MY CHAIR!”
The medium-sized bear’s soft pillow was dented. And the medium-sized bear said in his not-too-loud, not-too-quiet, medium voice:
“SOMEONE’S BEEN SITTING IN MY CHAIR!”
And you already know what the old woman did to the tiny little baby bear’s chair. And the tiny little baby bear squeaked in his tiny, thin, quiet voice:
“Someone’s been sitting in my chair and broke it!”
The bears decided to keep looking and went upstairs to the bedroom. The big, burly bear saw that his pillow was out of place—the old woman had moved it—and he roared in his loud, rough, scary voice:
“SOMEONE’S BEEN SLEEPING IN MY BED!”
The medium-sized bear saw that his bolster was out of place—the old woman had moved it—and he said in his not-too-loud, not-too-quiet, medium voice:
“SOMEONE’S BEEN SLEEPING IN MY BED!”
And the tiny little baby bear went to his little bed and saw that the bolster was in place, the pillow was in place, but on the pillow was the ugly, dirty head of the little old woman, and it certainly didn’t belong there—the nasty old woman had no business being in the bears’ house!
And the tiny little baby bear squeaked in his tiny, thin, quiet voice:
“Someone’s been sleeping in my bed and is still there!”
The little old woman heard the loud, rough, scary voice of the big, burly bear in her sleep, but she was sleeping so soundly that she thought it was the wind or thunder. She also heard the not-too-loud, not-too-quiet, medium voice of the medium-sized bear, but she thought it was someone mumbling in their sleep. But when she heard the tiny, thin, quiet voice of the tiny little baby bear—so sharp and piercing—she woke up immediately. She opened her eyes and saw the three bears standing right by the bed. She jumped up and ran to the window.
The window was open—after all, the three bears, like all good, clean bears, always aired out their bedroom in the morning. Well, the little old woman jumped out; whether she broke her neck, got lost in the forest, or made it out and was picked up by a constable and taken to a correctional facility for vagrancy—I can’t tell you. But the three bears never saw her again.
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