At five years old, Little Matt could count to twenty and read some of the simpler letters. He was very fond of his Daddy, his Mummy and his kindergarten teacher. But most of all he loved his grandma.
When the children in kindergarten painted pictures of their families, Matt never forgot to draw his grandma next to him with a smile on her face.
“My grandma is the best in the world because she's magical!” he explained to his classmates.
“Does she have a magic wand?” Lenny asked curiously.
“Or a magic hat?” guessed Mike.
Matt pondered. No, no. He had never seen his grandma holding a wand, a pointed hat, or a magic cloak.
Actually, Grandma didn't even look like a witch. She was just a normal grandmother. The only thing out of the ordinary was her hair. Grandma had dyed it pink and it reminded him of cotton candy or a soft little cloud. Anyone could recognize her from far away!
Matt had no idea how his grandmother could do magic. Was it because of that hair? But he knew one thing for sure. His grandmother could scare away all the bad and scary things, turning them into good.
Like a few days ago when it suddenly turned cold and a strong, autumn wind started blowing. It whistled through all the cracks in the house until it sounded like someone wailing.
“Grandma! Did you hear that?”
Matt came running to his grandmother and snuggled up as she was reading in her chair. His eyes were full of fear.
“That sure was a ghost!” he said.
Grandma put her book down on the chair and smiled.
“You think so? Let's go see,” she suggested.
Hand in hand, they boldly made their…