Friday, October 29, 2010

A HALLOWEEN FABLE






This would be no ordinary Halloween.

For it was on this Halloween that three evil witches, who were sisters—triplets, in fact—planned to end the world.

Little did they know that one little girl, Wendy, had the power to stop them.

Wendy was eight years old and could not decide what to be for Halloween. For weeks and weeks she visited Halloween costume shops, and bought nothing.

On the night before Halloween, Wendy had a dream. In this dream, a voice told her to be an angel on Halloween. Next morning, Wendy told her mommy she’d decided to costume herself as an angel.

So while Wendy was at school, her mommy went shopping for an angel costume. She could not find one anywhere. So instead she bought a witch costume.

When Wendy returned home from school, she took one look at the witch costume and said, “No way! I have to be an angel tonight!”

“But why?” asked Wendy’s mommy.

“My dream,” said Wendy. “I can’t explain more than that.”

“They were out of angel costumes,” said Wendy’s mother. “This witch’s costume was all they had. And Halloween will begin in two hours.”

Wendy was unmoved. “We’ll have to make one,” she said.

Wendy’s mommy found an old white lace dress in the attic. She cut it up and sewed an outfit for Wendy. Then she drove to the dime store and bought white pipe cleaners. These she twined into a halo. And from crinolene and a wire hanger she crafted a pair of wings.

“Something’s missing,” said Wendy, as she posed in front of a mirror. “I know,” she added. “A magic wand.”

Wendy’s mother went into the garden and found a tree branch. This she painted white then carved a star from Styrofoam, which she affixed to the end of the branch. “Here you are, Wendy,” she said. “A magic wand.”

Wendy waved her wand at a mirror. “I’m ready for Halloween,” she announced.

Meanwhile, the sun had set, and the evening was growing dark.

Grudle, Grazzle, and Griggle—the witch triplets—flew through the sky on their broomsticks, across a full moon, and landed on Wendy’s street.

“Let’s start here, “cackled Grudle.

“Good idea,” chortled Grazzle.

“G-G-Great!” shrieked Griggle.

The three wicked witches walked slowly, looking at all the boys and girls who were dressed as monsters and goblins and ghouls for trick-or-treating.

“What an evil neighborhood,” snarled Grudle.

“Delightfully gruesome,” squawked Grazzle.

"F-F-Frightful!” giggled Griggle.

Grudle raised her arms and pointed her fingers. Just as she was about to cast her first evil spell for ending the world, she saw angelic Wendy, strolling towards them.

“Eeeeeek!” she squealed. “An angel!”

“Oooooooh, how awful,” said Grazzle.

“F-F-Frightful,” shrilled Griggle.

“Hey you!” cackled Grudle. “Go away. There’s no room for angels tonight.”

Wendy walked right up to the witches. “You don’t look like you belong in this neighborhood,” she said.

“Hee-hee-hee,” giggled Grudle. “She doesn’t think we belong in this neighborhood,” she mocked Wendy. The green wart on Grudle’s long pointy nose wiggled as she spoke. “Well, we belong now. So be gone with you, angel. We have wicked work to do.”

“No,” said Wendy. “I’m going wherever you go.”

“You hear that, sisters?” cackled Grudle with an evil grin. “Let’s cast a spell on this angel. We'll turn her into a warthog, eh?”

“Yeah, let’s!” squealed Grazzle.

“D-D-Do it now!” shrilled Griggle.

The three witches raised their hands and pointed all their fingers and thumbs at Wendy. “La- madz-a-la-moe, and piddle-dee-pog, this angel shall be a slimy wart hog!” they all shrieked in unison.

But Wendy did not turn into a warthog. Instead, she looked even more angelic than before, as she waved her wand at the witches.

“You’re not going to do bad magic in my neighborhood,” said Wendy defiantly.

“Your neighborhood? Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee,” Grudle laughed wickedly. “We’re going to cast evil spells on the whole world, and make it go away! Right girls?”

“Right, Grudle,” said Grazzle.

“R-R-Right, Grudle,” said Griggle.

“No,” said Wendy. “I won’t let you.”

“Did you hear that, girls?” Grudle snickered. “She says she won’t let us!”

The other witches shrieked with laughter.

“C’mon,” hissed Grudle. “Let’s start.” Grudle raised both hands and wiggled her long fingers at the sky. “Sala-ma-suga, sigga-malow, alive you must come, pumpkins aglow.

At this, jack-o-lanterns throughout the neighborhood grew stumpy legs and congregated around the witches.

“I hope you have something better than pumpkin pie,” Wendy chuckled.

“Oh, but we do,” cackled Grudle, insulted. “How ‘bout a monster, little angel, eh?”

“Hee-hee-hee,” Griggle and Grazzle tittered.

Grudle raised her hands again and conjured up a big hairy monster with two heads and six eyes. “Get her!” she shrieked.

The monster lifted its heavy size-sixteen shoes and accidentally stepped on a pumpkin.

The pumpkin squealed in agony.

The monster slipped on slithery pumkin seeds and fell flat on its face, knocked out cold.

During the next six hours, Grudle, Griggle, and Grazzle created a series of ghouls, ghosts, mummies, vampires and zombies to try to frighten Wendy away, so they could get on with destroying the world.

Was Wendy frightened?

No, Wendy was not.

With each new fright, Wendy found new courage and waved her wand, causing each new ghoul, ghost, mummy, vampire and zombie to stumble and be rendered harmless.

At last, totally exhausted, the witch triplets mounted their broomsticks and flew up into the moonlit sky. They cursed loudly, swearing they’d return next Halloween to destroy the world.

It was past midnight when Wendy finally arrived home, weary from her battle with evil.

Wendy’s parents scolded her for coming home so late.

“We’ve been going out of our minds with worry,” wailed her mother.

“You’re grounded for a whole week, young lady,” said Wendy’s father. “And no Internet.”

Wendy was too tired to care. “I’m sorry,” she shrugged. “I had to make three witches go away.”

Wendy’s mother and father stared at her in disbelief. “Go to bed.” They pointed up the stairway.

Wendy trudged wearily up the stairs to her bedroom, got into her nightgown, brushed her teeth and climbed beneath bedcovers.

As she was about to fall asleep, a gentle voice—the same one from her dream—spoke to her. “Thank you, Wendy, for saving the world tonight.”


MORAL: Follow your dreams. The future of the world may depend on them.