I believe in the Great Pumpkin. I don’t care what scientific evidence you can present against my case, I don’t care to provide you with any proof of my own. Every October 31st I believed that Halloween incarnate rises from the pumpkin patch to deliver toys to all of the good boys and girls who believe in him. I, like Linus of Peanuts by Charles Schulz, am yet to receive gifts from the Great Pumpkin, but that does not deter me. Belief in something, anything, enriches life.
First and foremost, trusting in intangible things has formed me into a better person. A prime example is my unusually long relationship with Santa. I was made fun of from time to time because I believed in him longer than my peers. Even now that I know the horrible truth I benefit from those years. I was teased for my innocence, but I learned that others should never compromise my ideals. The jolly old elf established my moral compass, and it continues to point toward his fictional home. I have now come to the realization that there is only one magical toy-bringer in existence, and continue to live under his guidance.
Directions from things that can’t be seen is responsible for much of the good in this world because the unseen offers incentives. I would call myself a religious person for many reasons, but I cannot deny that the prize of admission to heaven is a powerful motivator. The Great Pumpkin gives me hope that one day, I will be a good enough person to receive a gift.
Say what you want to me, but I have made up my mind. I have learned to ignore criticism for my ideas, and I know that all of them make me a better person. I believe in the great beyond, in the spirit of Christmas, and in the Great Pumpkin.
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