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Page one of the book that came back
- Rose, aged 5the child in the photo
- Little Red Riding Hoodchosen from the story library
- 10 pageseach one drawn for this book
- One photonothing else was uploaded
Every page of Rose’s book
The same face from the first page to the last, painted in one style. These are the pages exactly as they came out.
Rose’s mother filled a basket with cake for Grandmother and held it out at the doorway. 'Keep to the path, Rose,' she warned gently, 'and do not stop to talk to anyone.' Rose nodded, snug in her bright red cloak. Rose set off with the basket on her arm, stepping along the forest path. Her red cloak shone like a berry among the brown trunks and green leaves. Birds called softly, and Rose remembered her mother’s words. A grey wolf stepped out between the trees and stood on the path. In a friendly voice, it asked where Rose was going with such a lovely basket. Rose held the handle tight and remembered to be polite but wary. The wolf lifted one paw toward a sunny bank of flowers far away from the path. 'Sweet Rose,' it said, 'Grandmother would love a bunch of those.' The flowers nodded in the breeze, bright and tempting. Rose stepped off the path to gather flowers, just a little way at first. She crouched among bluebells, daisies, and foxgloves while her basket rested in the grass. When Rose looked up, the path was only a thin bright line far behind. Meanwhile, the wolf slipped onto the short way through the trees. Rose stood up from the flowers, holding the basket and listening to a rustle far off. The wolf was already hurrying toward Grandmother’s little thatched cottage. At Grandmother’s cottage, a figure in a frilled nightcap answered in a strange voice. Rose stopped two paces from the bed and tilted her head. 'What big ears you have,' said Rose, 'and what big eyes you have.' 'And what big teeth you have,' said Rose, taking one careful step back. The nightcap flew off, and the spectacles slipped sideways. It was the wolf all along, looking much less grand and much more caught out. Just then the woodcutter came striding from the trees and raised one strong arm. 'Out of these woods for good!' he called, and the wolf ran away fast. Rose pointed after it, and Grandmother waved safely from her doorway. Inside, Rose sat at Grandmother’s table with the woodcutter and Grandmother, and they shared the cake. The wildflowers stood in a jug in the middle, nodding as if they were glad too. Rose smiled, safe and warm, remembering the path.
Rose is not a real child — the photograph is AI-generated, so no family’s picture is on this page. The book is real: it was made here, the same way yours will be.
The photo you upload is used only to draw your book, and is deleted from our server as soon as the book is ready.