Read by Michael Flamel

OOnce upon a time, in a faraway land nestled between rolling hills and babbling brooks, there was a magical farm unlike any other. The farmer, a kind-hearted soul named Mr. Thompson, had a secret—his farm animals could talk! But that’s not the only enchantment that dwelled on this farm.

One sunny day, as the golden rays kissed the fields of ripe crops, the farm animals gathered in a secret meeting by the big red barn. Henrietta the hen, Winston the wise old goat, and Daisy the chatty cow were the ringleaders.

“We need to convince Mr. Thompson to have a grand festival to celebrate the bountiful harvest,” declared Henrietta, fluffing her feathers with determination.

“But how do we get him to agree? Humans don’t understand animal language,” mused Winston, his beard swaying as he scratched his chin.

That’s when Charlie, the mischievous crow, squawked in excitement, “I’ve heard tales of a mystical scarecrow who can come to life! If we have a friend like that, Mr. Thompson will have no choice but to join the festivities.”

The idea intrigued the animals, and with a chorus of excited clucks, baas, and moos, they set their plan in motion. Deep in the heart of the farm, near the pumpkin patch, they gathered old clothes, straw, and a touch of moonlight magic.

In the still of the night, they whispered their wishes to the magical concoction. Lo and behold, the Jolly Scarecrow emerged from the moonlit haze. With a straw hat jauntily tilted to the side, a checkered shirt, and the friendliest smile, the scarecrow was ready for action.

The next morning, Mr. Thompson strolled out to the fields, a mug of hot coffee in hand. His eyes widened as he saw the animated scarecrow waving at him.

“Greetings, Mr. Thompson! I am the Jolly Scarecrow, and I’ve come to be your friend,” boomed the scarecrow in a voice as warm as a Summer breeze.

Mr. Thompson, though startled, soon found himself chuckling at the friendly scarecrow’s antics. The animals, hidden behind the barn, exchanged triumphant glances. Their plan was working!

As days turned into weeks, the Jolly Scarecrow became an indispensable part of the farm. He danced in the cornfields, played hide- and-seek with the piglets, and even serenaded the tomatoes to help them ripen faster.

One evening, as the sun painted the sky in hues of pink and gold, the Jolly Scarecrow gathered all the animals for a meeting.

“My friends, it’s time to share our plan with Mr. Thompson. Let’s convince him to throw a festival to celebrate the magical harvest!” declared the scarecrow.

With the charm only a magical scarecrow possessed, he approached Mr. Thompson and shared the animals’ heartfelt desire for a festival. The farmer, moved by the sincerity in the scarecrow’s button eyes, agreed with a hearty laugh.

And so, under the twinkling stars and the watchful eyes of the moon, the farm hosted a festival like no other. There were games, laughter, and a feast made from the farm’s bounty. The Jolly Scarecrow danced with the children, and even Winston the goat tried his hooves at a lively jig.

As the night came to a close, Mr. Thompson looked around at the happy faces and felt a warmth in his heart. The magical harvest festival became an annual tradition, and the farm flourished with joy, laughter, and the everlasting friendship of the Jolly Scarecrow.

And so, in that magical farm, where vegetables whispered secrets and scarecrows danced, the spirit of celebration lived on, making every harvest a magical adventure for the young and the young at heart. ❖