The Garden

There once was a young maiden with ringlets of gold flowing down past her shoulders. Her eyes were blue as the creek that ran by her mama and papa's house.

She had six brothers and four sisters, and on her eleventh birthday, she was chosen to pick the family pumpkin out of the garden.

So, at dawn the next morning, she jumps out of bed and quickly throws on a cotton dress with flower accents her mama had sewn across the front and some soft-toe slippers.

With a sack in hand, she heads out, skipping her way down the lane to the gate that latched just outside the field.

It was for keeping the wolves out. She opened it and stepped inside, not before latching it back. Of course, she wouldn't want her father to think she'd done badly.

She continued on her way. The fields were large and heavy with crops; she never understood why papa always planted so many.

She walked and walked until she could no longer see the corn patch, the potato plants, or the gate, she would have to make sure to stay facing the same way, or she would get lost.
She fought tirelessly through those fields until the end.

She decided to scuff up the dirt a little to help should the inevitable happen, and she would lose her direction. So, she takes the toe of her shoe and begins swirling the dirt in an arrow pattern back toward the way she had come; she enjoyed this so much it was like a game, a dancing one, and she loved to dance.

She looked up in awe, there it was in all its glory, the grand ten-acre pumpkin patch. It was such a sight. She had never laid eyes on it before. Papa never allowed the children to journey there.

She stopped what she was doing when she heard a thunderous racket off in the distance. She tried to gaze in the right direction when the earth began to tremble underneath her feet.

She swiftly turned around and back around, and to her surprise, something enormous, at least fifty feet tall, was pacing toward her.

She began to tremble and thought she could hide from the creature behind the large pumpkin a few feet away.

She ran as fast as she could and knelt behind the enormous pumpkin, but she feared it would not be enough. So, she sat trembling and sobbing quietly as the beast looked around and sniffed the air.

She couldn't see it. She was too frightened to look up. But she could hear the beast's loud, raspy breath; its exhales sounded like the wind from a whirlwind.

She finally led enough courage to lift her head, only to find the giant staring down at her, "There you are," he said in a deep rumble, as he reached down with his fingers and scooped her up, holding her squirming body over his head before lowering her down into his mouth, one chew. He swallowed, "Humph! Not ripe yet," he said as he turned to walk away.