The sun rose gently over the small village, casting a golden glow across the fields. It was autumn, and the air carried the crisp scent of fallen leaves and ripening crops. In her grandmother’s backyard, Bibi stood barefoot on the soft earth, her eyes twinkling with excitement. Today was a special day—she and her grandmother were going to harvest pumpkins!
Bibi loved spending time at her grandmother’s house. Nestled between rolling hills and a quiet stream, the small cottage had a large vegetable garden where all kinds of plants grew. But of all the vegetables, pumpkins were Bibi’s favorite. Their round, plump shapes and bright orange color made them look like something out of a fairy tale. And the best part? Grandma always turned them into the most delicious dishes.
“Are you ready, my little farmer?” Grandma asked with a warm smile as she handed Bibi a small basket.
“Yes, Grandma! Let’s pick the biggest pumpkins we can find!” Bibi said excitedly, gripping her basket tightly.
Hand in hand, they walked to the pumpkin patch, where vines sprawled in every direction. Some pumpkins were small and green, while others had fully ripened into bright shades of orange. Bibi carefully stepped over the vines, looking for the perfect pumpkin to pick first.
“Look at this one, Grandma! It’s as big as my head!” she exclaimed, pointing to a round pumpkin nestled among the leaves.
Grandma chuckled. “That’s a fine one! But remember, we want pumpkins that feel firm and sound hollow when tapped.”
Bibi bent down and gently knocked on the pumpkin. Thump, thump! It made a deep, hollow sound, just like Grandma had described.
“This one is ready!” Bibi declared proudly.
With a little effort, she grabbed the thick, green stem and twisted it until the pumpkin separated from the vine. She placed it in her basket, though it was so heavy that she needed both hands to carry it. Grandma helped her pick a few more, choosing pumpkins of different sizes. By the time they were done, their baskets were full, and Bibi’s arms were sore from carrying them.
“Now comes the best part,” Grandma said as they walked back to the house. “We’re going to cook something delicious!”
Cooking with Love
Back in the kitchen, Grandma set the pumpkins on the wooden table. She pulled out a sharp knife and carefully sliced one open, revealing its golden flesh and a belly full of seeds.
“Wow!” Bibi said, fascinated. “Look at all the seeds! What do we do with them?”
“We can roast them for a snack,” Grandma said. “They’re delicious with a little salt.”
Bibi eagerly helped scoop out the seeds, her fingers getting sticky with pumpkin pulp. Grandma spread them on a tray to dry, while Bibi watched as she cut the pumpkin into smaller pieces.
“Now, we’re going to make pumpkin soup and roasted pumpkin,” Grandma announced.
First, they made the soup. Grandma placed the pumpkin pieces in a pot with onions, garlic, and a splash of broth. As it simmered, the house filled with a warm, comforting aroma. Bibi stirred the pot carefully, watching as the pumpkin softened and blended with the other ingredients.
Next, they prepared the roasted pumpkin. Grandma tossed the pumpkin slices with olive oil, salt, and a sprinkle of cinnamon before spreading them on a baking tray. Into the oven they went, and soon, the sweet, spicy scent filled the kitchen.
When everything was ready, Grandma ladled the soup into bowls and placed the roasted pumpkin on a plate. She added a dollop of cream to the soup and handed Bibi a spoon.
“Go ahead, my dear. Tell me what you think.”
Bibi took a careful sip. The soup was warm and creamy, with a slightly sweet flavor that made her smile.
“Mmm! This is the best soup ever!” she said happily.
Grandma laughed. “Food always tastes better when you help make it.”
Bibi eagerly reached for a piece of roasted pumpkin, popping it into her mouth. It was crispy on the outside and soft on the inside, with a hint of cinnamon that made it taste like autumn.
As they ate together, Grandma told stories of how she used to harvest pumpkins with her own grandmother when she was a little girl. Bibi listened, imagining the past and feeling a deep warmth in her heart. She realized that pumpkin harvesting wasn’t just about picking vegetables—it was about spending time with loved ones, creating memories, and sharing food made with love.
After finishing their meal, Bibi helped clean up, already thinking about the next time they could do this again.
“Grandma, can we harvest pumpkins again next year?” she asked.
Grandma smiled, pulling Bibi into a warm hug. “Of course, my dear. And maybe next time, we’ll try baking pumpkin bread too!”
Bibi giggled, already excited for the future. As she sat by the fireplace that evening, sipping a warm cup of pumpkin soup, she knew that this day would always be one of her favorite memories.
