In a sleepy autumn village, a little white ghost wanted nothing more than a friend. He drifted through the cobblestone streets, looking for someone to say hello to.
Boo spotted a baker and waved his tiny hand. The baker yelped, dropped his flour-dusted baguette, and bolted inside, slamming the door shut.
Boo's smile faded. He drifted lower, his translucent edges brushing the cold cobblestones. He thought, Maybe nobody wants to be friends with a ghost.
Then Boo saw a little girl stacking pumpkins in the garden. He floated closer, ready to say hello, but she screamed and ran behind the fence.
Boo watched her scramble away. His hopeful smile faded again. He drifted lower, his edges brushing the cobblestones.
One pumpkin rolled away. Boo picked it up with both hands and drifted toward the fence. The girl peeked over and whispered, "My pumpkin!" She pulled out her embroidered handkerchief.
Boo closed his eyes and focused. A soft warm light began to glow from inside him. He floated into the pumpkin patch, following a sweet scent.
His light bounced off the dewdrops, making tiny rainbows dance across the dark soil. It was the most beautiful thing Boo had ever made.
Boo carried the pumpkin back to the girl and set it gently at her feet. She looked up, wiped her eyes, and smiled.
"Thank you, Boo!" she said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small crinkled apple. "For you," she said. Boo smiled.