Going to school in the mornings they would gather on a corner a block or two away and hurry
by in a group. At the end of the day they’d meet in the schoolyard and again go home in a group.
They felt safer and more secure in numbers.
Now, Caroline played the recorder so well that she was asked to join the school band, and that
meant staying after school one afternoon a week to rehearse. No one else in the band lived in her di-
rection, so after the first rehearsal she had to walk home, past Number 97, all by herself. The late af-
ternoon was cloudy and that clear light of day that often helps your confidence had disappeared from
the sky. Caroline set out as she normally would but as she began to approach the little old cottage it
looked scarier than ever.
The tall trees surrounding it blew in the breeze and cast moving shadows on the sidewalk that she
walked along. For a while she hesitated, not knowing what to do. How was she to face this fear of the
witch? What might happen to her if the witch of Number 97 came out and looked at her? She thought
about going back to school. If she hurried she might get there before all the teachers left. She could
perhaps call her mother to come and pick her up. But what if some of the older kids were still there?
If they learned she was too scared to walk home by herself she would be the laughingstock of the school.
There was another way home, but it was longer and the evening was getting dark. She could go
that way, but it would be scary in the dark, too. She could, but didn’t want to, turn back to school.
She could, but didn’t want to, find another way home in the dark. No, she thought, she had to be
brave and press on past the witch’s cottage at Number 97.
As she got closer, the little old cottage, partially hidden behind the unloved garden, seemed to
grow bigger and more menacing. She wanted to run but felt she really needed to just walk her way
through the experience. She took some deep breaths and tried to think of something different: home,
Mom and Dad waiting for her, her favorite supper, the comfort of her own bed when she snuggled
into it tonight. While thinking of those things the ominous look of the old cottage seemed to fade.
It didn’t feel so scary.
When she started looking at and thinking about the witch again, the cottage loomed big and
frightening in her thoughts. In fact, the more she looked at it, the worse she felt. “No,” she said to
herself, “concentrate on how good it will feel to get home,” and with that she started to feel easier.
Caroline smiled to herself. She was enjoying this little trick she had learned to play in her mind.
But then, as she reached the front gate to Number 97, Caroline’s heart almost stopped. She for-
got about her thoughts of home. The little old woman was out in the garden... looking at Caro-
line! Caroline tried not to look back but from the corner of her eye saw the little old lady was smil-
ing at her, warmly. She noticed the woman seemed smaller and less threatening than when the other
kids were around telling frightening stories about her. Nonetheless, Caroline kept walking, thinking
of home and letting the fear subside as she thought of those nice feelings of having a warm supper
with her family.
Maybe that is a good enough place to leave the story, but that is not quite where it ended. Each
week as Caroline walked home by herself the little old woman of Number 97 was there to give her
a smile. Caroline, thinking she didn’t seem as scary as all the stories the other kids told, began to smile
back. She almost jumped out of her skin the first time the little old woman said hello, but it wasn’t
long before Caroline looked forward to stopping and talking with her on her way home from school.
The little old woman had so many interesting stories to tell. Actually, her name was Mrs. Walcott,
she told Caroline.
CHANGING BEHAVIORChanging Patterns of Behavior 83