Pumpkins and Ghosts
Little Marty was playing outside. It was a cool autumn day. He thought he heard voices coming from the field beside him. He looked over to the field but all he could see was a pumpkin patch. He walked carefully over to the pumpkins and the voices got louder.
“Who is talking?” asked Marty.
“It is us,” said one of the voices.
“But who are you?” asked Marty.
“We are the pumpkins,” said the same voice.
Marty looked down. He saw the pumpkins were talking to each other. Marty shook his head and continued on his way.
“Mother,” said Marty, when he reached his home.
“What is it?” asked Mother, who was in the kitchen preparing dinner.
“Do pumpkins talk?” asked Marty.
“Now Marty,” said Mother, shaking her head at him. “You know that pumpkins don’t talk. Go wash up for dinner.”
Mother didn’t believe Marty and the reason she didn’t believe him was because he was always coming home with some story or another to tell. Just the other night he told his Mother he heard ghosts in his bedroom. Mother walked past the pumpkin field that very next day and she heard voices.
“Oh I think I must be hearing things,” she thought to herself, not wanting to believe that her five year old son was right.
She continued on and she continued to hear voices.
“Who is speaking?” she asked fearfully.
“It is us,” said one of the voices.
“But who are you?” asked Mother.
“We are pumpkins,” said the same voice.
“Pumpkins don’t talk,” said Mother.
“You are wrong,” said the voice. “We do talk. We are talking right now, aren’t we?”
Mother thought about what the pumpkin had just said.
“They must be talking,” said Mother. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to hear them. Marty must have been right and if he was right about the pumpkins, then he could very well be right about the ghosts.”
That night, Mother sat in Marty’s bedroom with him long after she had read him a bed time story. She watched as Marty fell asleep. She watched as the moon started to shine through Marty’s bedroom window. All of a sudden, Mother saw the figure of a ghost standing in Marty’s bedroom.
“Okay ghost,” said Mother. “You are going to get out of Marty’s bedroom and you are going to leave him alone.”
The ghost looked shocked at Mother. Nobody had ever talked to him like that before. His feelings hurt, he left Marty’s room and never returned.
“Mother,” said Marty, the next evening. “I saw a scarecrow talking over by the fence this morning.”
“I believe you,” said Mother, smiling at Marty. “I do believe you.”
Moral of this Story:
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