Once upon a chill Halloween night, sat ‘Old Widow Murphy,’ in a house draped with rumors of haunting and grief. She was the town oddity, mislabeled as a wicked witch primarily due to her relentless hoarding of jack-o’-lanterns.
They flickered on her worn, rickety porch, their faces an eerie playground of emotions: gaping mouths, somber eyes, curled smiles spread around. Folks whispered ghastly tales around them, painting ‘Old Murphy’ as a dreadful enchantress.
One Halloween, a couple of daring kids decided to confront the widow. Mustering their courage, they timidly stepped over the creaky porch, knocking on her cobweb-laden door. With a squeak, it swung open to reveal the gentle, smiling Widow Murphy, keen to enjoy some light-hearted pranks.
With a sense of theater matched by none, she ushered them inside. Her sharp eyes twinkled as she handed them a carved pumpkin, ‘There’s magic in here, find it, and the true spirit of Halloween will be revealed.’
Aghast they squinted, only to discover a fledgling tree growing inside! With their heads whirling, they peeked up to see ‘Old Murphy’ chuckling, ‘Halloween, my dears, is not about invoking fear, but harnessing the magic of life, even in death, much like the jack-o’-lantern life within.’
That was the Halloween everyone in town learned, the real witch was not ‘Old Widow Murphy,’ but their own unfounded fears!