The Grove Community Playmakers invite you to the charming town of Harvest Hollow — where the Fall Festival is in peril! The town’s beloved giant pumpkin has been stolen, and it’s up to the clever children of our community to crack the case.

Join us Saturday, November 1st from 1- 4 PM for a day of mystery, laughter, and autumn fun!
Young detectives will search for clues, meet quirky townsfolk, and create fall crafts as they uncover who dared to sabotage the festival!

At 4 PM, the mystery will be revealed — and those with the correct culprit will have the chance to win prizes for kids, families, moms, and dads alike!

Bring your curiosity. Bring your creativity. Bring your community spirit.
Because in this story… you are the hero!

Here is the story of Harvest Hollow’s Mystery.

Once upon a crisp autumn morning, when the wind danced through the amber trees and the smell of spice and cider filled the air, the little village of Harvest Hollow was buzzing with excitement.

It was nearly time for the Annual Fall Festival, and at the heart of every festival stood the village’s greatest treasure — the Giant Pumpkin of Harvest Hollow.

Each year, the townsfolk would gather in the square to admire the enormous gourd, grown with love and care in the village garden. But the pumpkin wasn’t just for show — oh no! After the festival, it was always divided among six of the nine local businesses. Each business that was granted a portion of the Giant Pumpkin was tasked to use it to enrich the village.

To keep things fair, each business drew straws to see who would receive a share that year. Those who drew the short ones would have to wait until the next harvest.

The lucky six could each use their portion in their own special way:
The clothier might use the strong vines to twist into fine cordage for stitching and weaving.
The tavern cook might roast the seeds, bake the pumpkin into pies and soups, and fill the air with the smell of comfort.
The apothecary might mix the soft orange pulp into balms and potions to soothe tired skin and aching hands.
The farmer might till the leftover rind and roots into the soil to feed the next year’s crops.
And each year, the villagers would celebrate the ways the pumpkin helped everyone — sharing, giving, and working together. Those who didn’t receive a portion felt that it was a stroke of luck. They felt that this was a way that they could take the idea they had for that year and work it into something that was even more beneficial to the village.

But, not everyone saw it that way. Some felt slighted or put upon… as if Harvest Hollow wouldn’t exist without them and their personal endeavors. It was a selfish and ego driven way of thinking. A way that most of the townsfolk didn’t even understand.

This year, when the straws were drawn, Finnian the Baker was left without. And, that didn’t sit well with him. You see, the baker loved to boast about his recipes — especially the ones he made up himself. The problem was… they were always terrible.

Last year, he had used the pumpkin in a tart he proudly called “The World’s Best Pumpkin Sweet Tart.” But, instead of delighting the crowd, it made them gag! He’d filled it with pickled onions (“Sour!” cried the townsfolk), wilted, unwashed dandelion petals (“Dirty!” they complained), raw acorns (“Bitter!” they moaned), and something most unsettling — powdered cicada shells! (“Unacceptable!” they roared.)

But, the baker wasn’t the only one with… creative ideas.

There was Maudeline the Painter, who fancied herself the finest artist in all the land. She claimed she could grind the pumpkin’s skin into pigment and — with the right spell of her brush — turn it into the most beautiful shade of blue the world had ever seen. Of course, no one had ever seen a blue pumpkin, and the town elders gently reminded her that perhaps she should paint with apples or berries instead.

But, Maudeline was quite sure she knew best...and not one single person could change her mind.

Then there was Old Crispin the Candle Maker, who swore that if he melted the pumpkin’s flesh into wax, it would burn with a glow as golden as the harvest moon. The others doubted his theory — and truth be told, his candles often smoked more than they shone. If they were left to burn for long enough, the walls would be covered in a yellow waxy substance. If left sitting on a tableside, they would draw flies. And no matter what...his candles had a tendency to smell mostly like the boiled cabbage that Old Crispin ate for his dinner most every night.

Still, Crispin muttered about “wasted potential” and “the brilliance that no one appreciated.”

 Someone's ambition turned dark. They schemed — if they couldn’t use the pumpkin to their advantage, then no one would. In the moonlit evening they crept to the festival grounds and carried the giant pumpkin away, hidden under cloak and mischief.

So when dawn broke on the morning of the festival and the townsfolk gathered in the square… their gasps filled the air. Panic spread: without the pumpkin, the festival could not begin. The clothier’s spools sat idle; the tavern’s hearth waited cold; the apothecary’s jars lay unopened. The community was in jeopardy. The pedestal stood empty. The Giant Pumpkin of Harvest Hollow was gone!

No one knew who had taken it. The baker denied everything. Maudeline declared she’d been mixing paints all night. And Crispin claimed he’d been snuffing candles at the tavern ‘til morning.

The festival couldn’t begin until the pumpkin was found. The villagers worried, the children fretted, and the elders wrung their hands.

That’s when someone said, “Perhaps we should call upon the sharpest minds in town — the children!” Everyone in the village thought this a grand idea.

And so, young detectives, your task begins. The townsfolk have seen things, heard things, and may hold the clues you need. Talk to them, ask questions, gather what you can, and piece together the truth.

Was it the prideful painter, the brooding baker, or the curious candle maker?
The fate of the Fall Festival in Harvest Hollow rests in your hands.

Now go — seek your clues, trust your wit, and may the spirit of Harvest Hollow guide your way.