The folktale that I grew up listening too was the story of Hansel & Gretel, a little girl who roamed the woods with her little brother on a sunny afternoon. While roaming the woods, the younger siblings would leave a trail of bread crumbs while walking so it would be easier to find their way back home. When Hansel and Gretel decided they wanted to turn back home, the bread crumbs they had dropped were gone.
Hansel and Gretel are lost in the woods, but eventually they run into a house. The house is no ordinary house, the house is made of sweets, every different peice of candy one could think of, gumdrops and lollipops covered the house. Both of the children were starved and ran towards the house not thinking of whom or what was living inside.
While devouring half the house, a old women stops the two and tells them how the inside of her home is even sweeter then the outside. Hansel and Gretel trust the women and allow her to take them inside her home. At once the women grabs the children and locks them up in a cubbard. Hansel and Gretel can smell smoke, that they can only guess is from an oven. The old women unlocks he cubbard and takes them out, the sister and brother team up and push the old women into the oven and cook her slowly.
My grandmother would tell me this story every weekend when I would spend the night, she would substitute Hanzel and Gretel names with my own and my little brothers. She also would say that the old women was her, and that you should not trust everybody even if they treat you sweet.