The Mouse and the Giant Pumpkin

Far beyond the misty ridges lived the people of the timid mice. They had dwelled beneath a vast, towering oak for many generations. None of them remembered where they had once come from, but that did not particularly interest them either. More than anything else, they longed for the peace and safety of their own small village.

The village mice loved stories and eagerly told them in the evenings by the campfire. Although there were more tales than any single mouse could remember, one stood above all the others and was told at every celebration. It was the story of the great pumpkin, so enormous and so orange that it provided wonder and food for the entire village for a month.

The whiskers of the village mice trembled with excitement as they recalled the delicacies mentioned in the story. The smallest mice dreamed of pumpkin cake and the larger ones of pumpkin soup, while some thought pumpkin pie sounded the best of all. Though the mice could have sworn they knew exactly what those treats tasted like, they had no idea whether they had ever truly existed.

Life in the village was not all merriment, however, for from time to time winter would come, its fierce winds and biting frost forcing the villagers to remain in their homes. This year, autumn had shown signs of just such a winter, as the air had been unusually cold. The mice had not managed to gather enough food at the end of summer, and their stores were now nearly empty.

Every mouse felt in their heart that the food would likely not last even halfway through the winter. They had no choice but to wait and hope for the best, though the situation did not look promising.

Luckily for the village, on one particularly cold autumn evening, in the living room of a perfectly ordinary mouse home, something besides the fading glow of the fireplace was sparking. A sense of adventure. A young mouse sat thoughtfully on the floor, watching the flames. Outside, the wind howled as branches rattled against the windows.

When the last glow in the hearth faded, the mouse who had been watching it stood up and decided to act. He wanted to set out in search of the great pumpkin of the stories, the one that would save his village. He did not know where to begin or how he would find it, but his heart told him that he had to try. He could not simply wait and hope.

The mouse packed the last of his food into his bag, put on his warmest clothes, and rushed out the door into the darkness of the night. He did not yet know it himself, but in that moment his own story began. It was a story that all mice would come to know for generations to come.