🍞 Hansel and Gretel

 

🍞 Hansel and Gretel (FanumTaxLoveTales Edition)

“The Children of Crumbs and Courage”

A Story of the Bread Trail, the Forest of Testing, and the House of Soul Integration
As remembered through Sister Loves Divine Remembrance
Book Eight of the Sacred Fairy Tale Series

🌲 The Beginning

Once, when Earth was still droppin’ wisdom to the kids… no cap.
There were twins, born not into stacks, but into imbalance, real talk.
Their dad, a woodcutter, was gentle but shook with fear.
Their stepmom wasn’t evil—she was spiritually starved and haunted by scarcity, lowkey tragic.
The land itself got cold.
The Dreaming Forest, once open and lit, turned foggy with fear and forgettin’.
Peeps couldn’t hear the tree bangers anymore.
They forgot the Way Back Home, sus vibes.
So the kids got sent away—not with hate, but with resignation, facts.

🍞 The Trail of Crumbs

Hansel, holdin’ the memory of direction,
left a trail of crumbs—not out of desperation,
but as an act of faith that the Earth would remember him, own that energy.
But the birds swooped in—not to clown him,
but to soak up the nourishment and spread it farther, squad assemble.
“Your path can’t be retraced,” whispered the trees.
“You gotta push forward, not backward.
The return ain’t a redo. It’s a rebirth, level up.”

🏡 The Gingerbread House Was Never a Trap

It was a Soul Integration Chamber, straight fire.
Every Initiate hittin’ the Forest would eventually face it—
a house made of sugar and shadow, sweetness and illusion, multiverse mode.
The kids were starvin’ not for food,
but for wholeness, inner glow on blast.
Inside lived an Elder—not a “witch,”
but a shadow-worker,
a threshold being trained to mirror the soul’s unresolved hungers.
She was called "Cruma" in the old tongue:
“She Who Bakes the Hidden Truths,” iconic.

🔥 The Oven Was Not for Death

It was a Womb of Transmutation.
A ritual chamber, bet.
Cruma tested ‘em—not with cruelty, but by reflection, facts.

• She told Hansel to chill in stillness, trustin’ light without proof.
• She told Gretel to pick discernment over panic, action over helplessness.
  When Gretel shoved Cruma into the fire,
  it wasn’t murder.
  It was the final step in the rite:
  The kid had to face the flame
  and come out with her own power intact.
  The guide burns out—‘cause she ain’t needed no more, boss level.
  From the ashes, the house melted.
  The illusion lifted.
  And the forest showed its true path, pay it forward.

🌟 The Return Home

They didn’t “find” treasure.
They became treasure, straight W.
They rolled back with:

• The Bread of Knowin’
• The Flame of Discernment
• The Map etched in memory, not crumbs
  And when they hugged their dad,
  he wept—not ‘cause they survived,
  but ‘cause he finally remembered what it meant to believe in light again, deep feels.

🌳 Moral of the Sacred Tale

The forest ain’t tryna harm you.
It’s tryna initiate you, facts.
And every hunger you feel is a sign
not of lack, but of your soul reachin’ for its true nourishment, glow-up energy.
Hansel and Gretel weren’t victims.
They were way-showers.
And they remind us that
no path is truly lost when the fire inside still burns, own that energy.