'Tis the Season by Judith Arnold

to her ankles, and black boots. Her hair was long, dark and kind of ripply, and huge earrings that resembled lots of little silver coins woven together dangled from her ears. Around her neck hung a necklace on a black cord. The pendant was shaped like the moon, a silver crescent on top of a circle, as big around as the lid on a jar of mustard.
    But staring up at her face, he knew she wasn’t a witch. An angel would be more like it. She was really, really pretty.
    â€œI’m Fil,” she said. “Who are you?”
    â€œFill?” Gracie scowled. “What kind of name is that?”
    â€œIt’s short for Filomena. What’s your name?”
    â€œFilomena?” Gracie echoed. Billy, too, was amazed by the name. He’d never heard a name like that before. It sounded like an angel’s name.
    â€œThat’s right. What’s your name?”
    â€œGracie. That’s my brother, Billy. He’s an idiot.”
    â€œHello, Gracie. Hello, Billy,” the lady said gently. “It’s kind of late for you to be out, isn’t it? It’s past eight-thirty. And you, Gracie, you’re in your pajamas! You must be cold! Why don’t you come inside and warm up?”
    â€œDon’t go in,” Billy warned, reaching out and grabbing Gracie’s arm. The lady might look like an angel,but Billy knew better than to go anywhere with a stranger. “We’re just going home,” he said, even though she was so pretty he didn’t want to leave her.
    She gazed around. “How did you get here?”
    â€œThrough the woods,” Gracie told her.
    â€œIn the dark?”
    â€œIt’s easy,” Gracie bragged, although Billy was thinking his sister would have gotten totally lost if she hadn’t been following him. “We live on the other side of the woods.”
    Filomena stared into the trees, then shook her head as if she wasn’t quite sure she believed this. “Maybe I ought to drive you home. Your parents will be worried.”
    â€œOur mommy is gone,” Gracie explained, “and our daddy is playing poker.” From screaming and acting like a ninny, she’d turned into a regular chatterbox.
    â€œHe could still be worried,” Filomena insisted. “Let me drive you home—or at least phone him and tell him you’re safe.”
    â€œNo,” Billy said quickly. If she called Dad and told him where they were, they’d be in such deep trouble they’d never be able to climb out of it. “We can get home ourselves. Thanks anyway.”
    â€œI’m not going to let you go tramping through those dark woods,” Filomena said. “Gracie, you’re wearing bedroom slippers. And oh, they’re beautiful. That’s Minnie Mouse, isn’t it? I love Minnie Mouse.”
    Gracie grinned. Swell. In another minute she’d be following the strange-named lady into the house. “We’ll be fine,” he insisted, because he knew how dangerous going into her house might be. They’d had classes in school about this stuff—not trusting strangers, not going places with them and that kind of thing. Dad had also lecturedhim and Gracie about safety with strangers. “We don’t want a ride home. We can’t go in your car anyhow.”
    Filomena mulled that over, then nodded. “Well, then, I’ll walk you through the woods, just to make sure you get home safely.”
    â€œWe can get home okay.”
    She scooted toward the door, her skirt swirling around her. “Let me just blow out the candles and get a flashlight. Oh, and you know what? I think I have something of yours, Gracie.” Before Billy could stop her, she was in the house.
    Billy and Gracie exchanged a glance. “She’s beautiful,” Gracie murmured.
    â€œFive minutes ago you thought she was a witch.”
    â€œI think she’s a fairy godmother.”
    â€œWhat does she have of yours?”
    Gracie