The Pumpkin and the Scarecrow, a short story for
children, 11/2017…
“Look, Joanie, I see a really big one right over
there!” Said Andrew, to his really-excited
little sister. “I see it! Let’s get Mary and James to see it too!”
(At seven years old, Andrew, the oldest of the four
siblings, was sure to be credited with finding one of the biggest pumpkins in Farmer
John’s field.)
*****
The multi-colored leaves had begun to fall from the
trees, as the chill in the Fall air was an indication of the coming festive
holiday of Thanksgiving, a favorite of the Brady family. One of the reasons that it was a favorite time of year, is that the
kids knew that their nieces and nephews and cousins would be coming to their
house, almost like a mini family reunion.
They also knew that the relatives would be bringing with them extra
goodies to add to the already loads of good food that would almost overload the
dinner table, including some of their favorite homemade desserts, sure to cause
them to eat just a wee bit too much! At
such a tender age, these family adventures would make a lasting impression,
with happy memories that would last forever, passing them down to their
children in the years to come.
And the sky was deep blue with a few puffy clouds that,
once-in-a-while, would hide the sun, but only for a few seconds at a time. A slight breeze released some of those
“stubborn” leaves still clinging to their temporary tree-home, while their
fellow leaves already decorating the ground would be gently lifted up only to
find a new home a few feet away, all this added to the feel of this special
day. Their mom dressed the kids in
sweaters and light jackets just to make sure that they would stay as warm as
toast.
Linda Brady was proud of her little ones… She loved to
see their smiling faces, especially at the prospect of the coming holiday of
Thanksgiving and the really-special holiday of Christmas following shortly
after. This always brought her and her
husband, Frank Brady, great joy and pleasure, seeing their children growing up
right before their eyes! They also knew
that time flies by, and their kids would quickly become teenagers before they
knew it, so they wanted to savor every last minute of their childhood,
capturing their playful antics in pictures as well as recording their voices creating
future memories.
But now, the quest to become the owners of the “biggest”
pumpkin in the five-acre field of pumpkins was the only thing on the minds of
these young ones. And who could blame
them? After all, what child would have
anything else on their minds when surrounded by all those pumpkins? But this was not the first “hunt” for
pumpkins; from just about the time the kids could walk, their parents wanted
them to see and experience this special time, all because their family had been
brought up in the traditions of American life.
And this going way back to their grandfather’s coming to the United
States from England in 1941 right at the beginning of World War II when only nine
years old. So granddad wasn’t old enough
to enlist in the Army to participate in that terrible war that ended in 1945,
thank goodness.
Frank Brady wanted to continue those traditions to
help keep alive the memory of his beloved dad as well as preserving this
classic American holiday.
*****
Oh! But
wait! There seemed to be “somebody”
guarding that huge pumpkin way over in the corner of the field. Andrew, with Joanie, five, following right
behind, ever so slowly inched their way closer to the prize, along with her five-year-old
twin brother, James. Little Mary, just
three years old, rushed to catch up with James, and grabbed his pant leg to
hitch a free ride, but James decided to plop Mary down into the little red
wagon they towed, as they all headed in the direction of their newly discovered
gem.
Their plan was to capture that monster pumpkin, and
claim it for their very own, but first they had to figure out just “who” that
was standing directly in front of them -- with his back toward them. Did they have to bargain with the “fellow”
with those outstretched arms standing so still, just like a soldier at
attention waiting for his commanding officer to inspect his uniform and
rifle?
They didn’t remember this “man,” so tall and rigid,
surrounded by all those orange globes, last year. So where did “he” come from, and why was “he”
there, they wondered?
It seems as though Farmer John had to enlist the
services of this “man” because those pesky crows were making a meal of his
prize-winning pumpkins just when he was needed in other sections of his farm,
tending to his many other responsibilities.
And the “man” did his job well!
Not a single pumpkin was lost since “he” assumed “his” duties!
As they drew closer, they slowed their approach to
this giant. Then, Joanie, James and Mary
stopped in their tracks, and let their brave brother Andrew cover the last few
steps, waiting to see just what was going to happen.
“Hello, mister?
Hello?” Said Andrew…
There was no response…
Now, just three feet away from the “stranger,” Andrew
took another step forward, ever so slowly, so as not to frighten the
unsuspecting “man” towering over their
pumpkin…
Before he took another step forward, though, he
remembered his dad saying that he should not talk to strangers – and that went
for his brother and sisters too. But the
desire to own that big old pumpkin was just too strong, and he was already
thinking of what to tell his dad about this little adventure and “talking” to this “stranger.”
The three siblings could see that the “man” had funny
fingers, nothing like their own fingers, but more like hay! But how could that be? A man doesn’t have hay for fingers, they
thought. Plus, his clothes seemed torn
and tattered, nothing like their clothes.
Plus, his feet also had hay for toes, nothing like their toes. And how could that be?
As this little drama began to unfold, their dad,
Frank, was watching from about fifty-feet away, and with his wife, began to
chuckle, but very silently, waiting to see how their kids would handle the
“negotiation” with the “man” standing as the last obstacle to claiming their
prize pumpkin. (And such would become pleasant
and happy memories for these very blessed parents, as Frank remembered his mom
and dad taking him and his two brothers and sister to a pumpkin field when he
was just a youngster himself.) Ah! What
child-like innocence!
Little Mary cried out: “Andrew…” showing concern for her brave brother. (Andrew was Mary’s little guardian and
protector; they were close as a brother and sister could be.)
Joanie and James were just a little less concerned,
but still curious with wonder at the “man” blocking their way to grabbing that
big old pumpkin…
With the last three steps taken, Andrew, now in front
of the tall “man,” looked up at “his” “face”…
“This isn’t a
man,” he yelled to his brother and sisters; “it’s a scarecrow”!
Relief filled Joanie and James; Mary was still sitting
in the little red wagon waiting for the last scene to unfold right before her
eyes…
“A scarecrow”? Now
Joanie and James remembered their dad telling them that sometimes farmers put
such things in their fields to keep birds away, so he can save his crops. But memories can be short with such little
ones...
Mary chimed in: “A scarecrow”? (Not really knowing what that meant!) “What is a scarecrow”? she continued…
Andrew wasted no time in getting that big, orange
pumpkin from its resting place and moving it toward their red wagon. But Mary needed to give up her private little
carriage space before that huge globe could be picked up – with the help of
Joanie and James – and “gently” placed in their wagon.
But there was still a little room left in the wagon
for Mary, so she became the closest to the pumpkin; that made her feel really
special!
With the whole “drama” at an end, Frank and Linda
smiled at each other and strolled toward their kids as they approached with the
wagon – and their pumpkin!
Now of course, their parents, would have to take those
little pieces of green paper from their wallets to pay for the newly found treasure
that would soon decorate the fireplace mantle.
And maybe, just maybe, mom would eventually make a fine pumpkin pie – or
two?
THE
END…
E. DeLalla
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