Once upon a time, a cranky witch got new neighbors. There was an even crankier woman who happened to be with child, and her husband. Now, the witch had the most fantastic vegetable garden in the whole village, which she protected with a giant wall and her general cranky attitude. Everyone in the village knew to stay away from the witch’s garden, no matter how plump her tomatoes got, or how brightly her yellow squash shone.
Everyone, except, of course for the new neighbors.
The witch knew they were sneaking into her garden at night, stealing her prize carrots. She was almost insulted to think they thought they were fooling her. Finally, it got to be enough.
The child had been born–the witch could hear it crying. She also heard a rustling in her garden, and walked out to find the man from next door filling his arms with carrots. He immediately fell to his knees and begged, agreeing to give her anything she wanted, even his own newborn child, if she would only not cast her spells on him. So she agreed, thinking it a joke, but the joke was on her.
Apparently, the girl had been born with the two longest ears anyone had ever seen. They stretched from her head nearly to her toes, just like a rabbit.
At first, this was a welcome surprise. The witch realized she’d been a little rash to agree to the proposal, and that she didn’t know much about raising children. Having a pet, on the other hand, was a challenge she felt up to.
So, she named the girl Rabunzel, and kept her in a large hutch. She fed her carrots and lettuce, and affixed a water bottle to the side of her hutch.
This worked out well for some time. But one day, the witch noticed something. She’d never had a rabbit problem before, but suddenly, they were everywhere. Eating her vegetables, digging up her plants, sniffing around Rabunzal’s hutch. Something had to be done.
So the witch built a tower that reached high into the air, and built Rabunzal a new, bigger hutch atop it. Whenever she needed to feed the rabbit-girl or bring her more water, she would signal to the her to let down her ears and then she would climb up. For a while, it was just like old times.
Things were going so well, she ignored the rustling at night, the sounds that sounded suspiciously like bunny hops, the faint outline of teeth marks on her tomatoes.
She tried not to notice that Rabunzal seemed less excited to see her, did not wiggle her nose as frequently, did not devour her carrots like she used to.
But she couldn’t ignore it any longer when she returned home to see rabbits, white and brown, and black and tan, scampering up and down the tower! The hutch door was open, the hutch itself empty. In the dirt, amidst the the rabbits hopping away, she could make out several sets of two large feet, as if a giant rabbit had long hopped away as well.
And yet, when she returned to her house, one carrot, carefully chosen, lay on her table. She knew the rabbit-girl might hop back to her yet.
The End.
Source: Rapunzel, Brothers Grimm
