The Happy Pumpkin

 

It was the 31st of October. Halloween, or as some say the Samhain. A magical time. In a field not too far from here, a little pumpkin waited patiently in his patch. He had been waiting all month for someone to come and pick him, take him home and carve spooky characters into him. It was a pumpkin's destiny and every pumpkin knew it.

'I'm going to be the scariest face on the windowsill this year,' a very large, portly pumpkin had boasted before he was picked.

'A terrible toothy grin for me,' cackled the next pumpkin to go.

'I'd love to be the scariest face on the windowsill,' thought the little pumpkin as he watched his brothers and sisters get picked. He listened to the running feet as the children ran through the fields and watched their grinning, excited faces.

'An unkindness of ravens will be carved on me,' squealed another of his sisters.

'A soaring bat, will be the art my owner chooses,' another shouted.

Each pumpkin couldn't wait to fulfil his or her destiny and the little pumpkin couldn't wait either. Now he was the last pumpkin on the patch and he feared he would never be picked. Left for the crows to pick at and the rot back into the earth, never to fulfil his true purpose. He’d spent almost six months preparing and growing for his role on someone’s windowsill.

As the farmer, who owned the field, closed the gate and the sun dipped low in the sky, he walked back to where the little pumpkin lay and bent down to pick him.

'You can come home with me,' he smiled. The little pumpkin was the perfect size for his granddaughter.

She was waiting in the kitchen, when the farmer arrived home. Just back from school she was finishing off her homework and jumped up when she saw her grandfather coming in with the pumpkin.

'It's perfect granddad, thank you.'

'What are you going to carve on it?' her granddad replied.

'The biggest smile I can. There are too many scary pumpkins around on Halloween. I want a this pumpkin to be the happiest pumpkin in the whole village.'

The farmer laughed and ruffled her hair, 'An excellent idea.'

And when the girl had finished her carving, the little pumpkin was indeed the happiest pumpkin in the village.

Written by DD Storyteller

In the true tradition of oral storytelling, please feel free to re-tell this story but please do not publish it in any written or printed form without my permission. Many Thanks.

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