Caleb jumps off the hayride and begins looking in the pumpkin patch.

There are many pumpkins to choose from.  Different sizes and colors.

He walks around for a couple of minutes, examining a few pumpkins.

He kneels down and lifts up a leaf, under it is a pumpkin.

He picks it up and walks over to me.

“This one.” He says.

It is a medium-sized orange pumpkin with a fat, semi long stump. 

It is plump and round.

There are spots of dirt and random light markings on the pumpkin.

Caleb has decided it is his.

I don’t write his name on it yet.

I assume he will probably put it down and decide on another as many of the kids have done.

We continue walking, and I search for a pumpkin of my own.

I pick one that is medium-sized, orange, and odd markings.

Caleb keeps showing me other ones.

He does not believe that this is the perfect pumpkin for me.

I pick up some, he looks at me questioningly.

“That one?” He asks

I put it down and we continue.

I start looking at the little ones.

They are cute.

I find a little one, and carry it around.

Still Caleb continues to look for the perfect pumpkin for me.

Then I see it.

It is little and hidden beneath a leaf.

Bright orange.

Only one tiny odd mark.

A perfect stem.

It is round and plump.

“It is cute!”Caleb says smiling.

It is my perfect pumpkin. 

I understand why Caleb has not put down his pumpkin.

It is a connection.

We feel connected to our pumpkins.

They were meant for us.

Caleb stops looking.

He must agree that I have found the perfect pumpkin.

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