Once upon a time, in the small, unhurried village of Spooksville, lived a seemingly benign old widow named Mildred. Her little house, nestled at the edge of a sleepy wood, was cute, if noticeably eerie, especially during harvest moon nights.
Mildred was friendly, baking pumpkin pies for neighbors, always with a warm smile and a wink. Locals loved her confectioneries, so delectable that one bite was never enough. Stranger yet, they noticed how the pies gave them a glow, like an internal flashlight was suddenly switched on.
On a chilly Halloween night, Mildred’s secret was unwittingly revealed. Young Peter, eager for his annual dose of pumpkin pie, prematurely knocked at Mildred’s door. To his surprise, instead of the usual orange pulp, he found a cauldron of swirling, silvery concoction.
The visibly flustered Mildred confessed that she was no ordinary widow but a benevolent witch. She didn’t bake pies using pumpkins, but moonbeams, dropped from the harvest moon, an ingredient that gave her pies their luminescent charm.
That unforgettable Halloween, Spooksville learned a lesson: not all witches were mean, some just knew their way around a good, moonlit, pumpkin pie. A witch by the pie, was a friend nearby.