Once upon a time, in a little village at the bottom of a green hill, there lived a boy named Peter. Every day, Peter took the village sheep up the hill to eat the sweet grass. There was fluffy Woolly, round little Puff, and the smallest lamb of all, Clover. "Baa, baa," said the sheep, munching away. "Baa, baa."
Peter liked the sheep, but the days on the hill were long and quiet. The clouds drifted by slowly. The grass swayed slowly. The sheep munched slowly. "Oh, I'm so bored," Peter sighed. "Nothing ever happens up here." Then he had an idea, a silly idea. He stood up on a rock, cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Wolf! Wolf! A wolf is coming!"
Down in the village, everyone heard him. The baker dropped his dough. The farmer put down her spade. Grandma Pam put down her knitting. They all hurried up the hill, huffing and puffing. "Where is the wolf? Are the sheep safe?" But there was no wolf at all, only the sheep munching grass and Peter laughing. "Ha, ha! I was only joking!"
The villagers wiped their foreheads. "Peter," said Grandma Pam gently, "that wasn't a very kind joke. We were worried. Please only call for help when it's true." Peter shrugged, and the villagers walked slowly back down the hill.
The next day, Peter was bored again. And he did the very same thing. "Wolf! Wolf! A wolf is coming!" Once again, the villagers ran up the hill, huffing and puffing. And once again, there was no wolf. Peter giggled. This time nobody laughed. The villagers just shook their heads and walked home, feeling tired and a little bit sad.
On the third day, as the sun began to set, something moved at the edge of the trees. It was a real wolf, grey and thin, with a long bushy tail. The wolf sniffed the air, looking around with curious yellow eyes. The sheep huddled close together. "Baa! Baa!" Little Clover hid behind Woolly.
Peter's heart went thump, thump, thump. He jumped onto his rock and shouted with all his might, "Wolf! Wolf! There really is a wolf! Please come!" Down in the village, the baker heard him and said, "Oh, that's just Peter joking again." The farmer said the same. And nobody came.
Peter felt very small. But then he remembered what Grandma Pam always said: "When something is hard, take a deep breath and think." So he took a big, deep breath. He called the sheep in a calm voice, "Come along, Woolly. Come along, Puff. Come along, little Clover." He led them one by one into the wooden fold and closed the gate, click. Then he stood tall beside the gate and rang his little shepherd's bell, ding, ding, ding.
The wolf looked at the closed gate. It looked at the boy with the bell. Then it gave a big, bored yawn, turned around, and trotted back into the forest to look for wild berries. Peter counted his sheep. "One, two, three... all of you, safe and sound." He let out a long breath, and a tear rolled down his cheek.
Peter walked down the hill in the dusk and went straight to the village square. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice wobbly. "I told a fib two times, so when the wolf really came, you didn't believe me. That was my fault. The sheep are all safe, and I promise to tell the truth from now on."
The villagers looked at each other. Then Grandma Pam opened her arms and gave Peter a big warm hug. "Thank you for telling us the truth now, Peter. We forgive you." The baker patted his shoulder. "And you kept the sheep safe all by yourself. Well done." The farmer smiled. "Next time the hill feels lonely, why don't you take a friend along? Then it won't be so boring."
So the next day, Peter's friend Lily came up the hill too. They made daisy chains, counted clouds, and sang songs to the sheep. And Peter never cried "Wolf!" for fun again.
That night, Grandma Pam tucked Peter into bed. The stars twinkled over the quiet hill, where Woolly, Puff and little Clover were sleeping in their fold. "Goodnight, Peter," she whispered. "Goodnight, Grandma," Peter whispered back. And he closed his eyes, feeling warm, and safe, and good inside, because telling the truth had made everything right again.
Parent tip: Stop after Peter says sorry and ask your child how the villagers might feel, then read on to Grandma Pam's hug.
Ask your child: After the story, you can ask: “Who was kind in this story, and what did they do?”
This is a gentle retelling: the wolf only wanders by and leaves, every sheep stays safe and Peter is forgiven.