The Real True Stories of the Fairy Tales: As Told to Regan by the Old Steam Engine

By Alex Jacobson

In this book, The Old Steam Engine, who knows the real stories of what really happened in those fairy tales we all hear, tries to set the record straight. He is, in fact, the real Little Engine that Couldnt.
When a little girl named Regan happens upon the old steam engine, he is an abandoned and broken down steam engine. But he begins to speak to her. He tells her that she has heard the wrong stories about what happened to people like Little Green Riding Hood and Snow Purple.
He tells the little girl that Little Green Riding Hood was not helpless and did not need a woodsman to save her. So, too, Snow Purple did not need to marry a prince.
The real stories of the fairy tales tell children that real people are the heroes of the stories.
The uniqueness of the stories appeals to adults as well as children so that the adults reading the stories will find them fun to read and to discuss with the children.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trafford Publishing
• Release date: Nov 12, 2014
• ISBN: 9781490711829

Alex Jacobson

Alex Jacobson had been interested in writing novels and biographical tales for many years. He is a graduate of California State University at Los Angeles with a bachelor of science degree. He has written adult fiction and biographical works along with his children’s stories. He was born in San Francisco, California. During the Cuban Missile Crisis, in October of 1962, he joined the army and was stationed in Europe. He often refers to his military life as an “all expense paid trip to Europe” paid for by the Defense Department. He has lived in Southern California and Texas. He now lives in the Denver, Colorado, area. He is always looking for new ideas for new stories.

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Copyright 2014 Alex Jacobson.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

isbn: 978-1-4907-1183-6 (sc)

            978-1-4907-1182-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014916010

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only. Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Trafford rev. 11/12/2014

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Contents

THE LITTLE ENGINE THAT COULDN’T

THE STORY OF LITTLE GREEN RIDING HOOD

THE STORY OF THE PRINCESS AND THE POMEGRANATE

THE STORY OF CINDER-ELVIS

THE STORY OF

SNOW-PURPLE

the%20little%20engine%20that%20couldnt.tif

THE LITTLE ENGINE THAT COULDN’T

As told to Regan by

THE OLD STEAM ENGINE

O nce upon a time, there was a young girl named Regan who lived in the Rocky Mountains. Regan loved going up high into the mountains. There she would walk and talk to herself and to nature. And, sometimes she would think about how nature would talk back to her. And, sometimes she would ask nature questions – and then she would think about how nature would answer.

It was just such a day, and she was walking right along side the old Rocky Mountain Railroad Depot. As she walked she pondered that there were lots of rocks in the Rocky Mountains, and there were lots of mountains on the rocks. So, she asked herself, Self, why do they call the Rocky Mountains the Rocky Mountains?

It seemed like a simple question, and since no one was around, she sat down on a large boulder near an old and abandoned steam engine, and asked again, out loud, How did the Rocky Mountains get their name?

Then a voice from somewhere nearby said: "Rocky Mountains is a translation of the word the Cree Indians called the mountains. That word was ‘as-sin-wati,’ which meant ‘mountain of rocks.

"This was because from a long distance away the mountains look like a pile of rocks. In 1752 a French explorer named Legardeur St. Pierre referred to them as ‘Montaignes de Roche,’ mountains of rock.

That was half a century before the Lewis and Clark Expedition would even reach this part of America.

Regan stood up from the boulder. The voice seemed to be from an old man. Perhaps very old. The man was talking in a calm and soft voice. Who said that? she asked. She looked around and saw no one nearby. She could see no one at all. She then thought that a friend of hers was hiding somewhere in one of the old train engines or perhaps behind a nearby tree.

Then, the voice said, Did I not answer your question to your satisfaction, Regan?

Now Regan knew it had to be someone trying to play a trick on her, because the person knew her name. COME OUT! she yelled. This isn’t funny. Whoever you are, come out where I can see you. And, how do you know so much about the Rocky Mountains?

The voice said, I’m not hiding. I’m right here.

Regan looked around some more. There was no sign of anyone. Not a single person.

She walked around and around the Old Steam Engine, expecting to see one of her friends from school, or perhaps even her mother or father standing there and laughing. But, there was no one. Regan began to worry. She knew not to talk to strangers, and if no one she knew was around, the speaker could very well be a total stranger. Regan decided it would be best to leave the old rail road yard, and head back home, but just in case it was a stranger, she picked up a good sized rock to hit him with.

Be careful with that rock, the voice said. Its tone was very gentle, but firm when it added, I have enough dents already.

Now Regan was angry. She raised the rock to throw at someone, but she was not sure at whom. So, to show her anger at whomever might be watching, she threw the rock at the Old Steam Engine, and watched as it chipped the paint. But, the engine was over 100 years old, and made of strong steel from long ago, so it was not dented one little bit.

Hey! cried the voice. "I told you to be careful with that rock. You chipped some of my paint. That paint has been there for over one hundred years – and, now you have chipped a big chunk of it away.

Some day, they will probably melt me down to make some other newer train or car or something. But, for now at least, treat me with some dignity. Don’t you know who I am?"

Regan was startled. Did the Old Steam Engine actually speak to her? She walked closer and looked under it, over it. Finally she said, OK. Whoever you are, I can’t figure out where you’re hiding.

I’m not hiding. I’m right in front of you. I’m the steam engine you are walking all over.

Regan was not frightened, she was just amazed. She was standing in front of a talking steam engine. Carefully, she asked, Why are you speaking to me?

I thought you were speaking to me, said the engine. You asked a question, and I’m the only one here to answer it.

Then, what you said about the Rocky Mountains getting its name was true?

Absolutely, I’ve heard many old miners speak of it. I often heard them tell stories of their adventures in the Rockies. But, I don’t think any of their adventures were ever as amazing as mine.

Yours? said Regan. "What adventure would an Old Steam Engine have?

"You look so old and rusted. Your paint is