The church I passed on the way to the plant shop said in all capitals,: “FALL FESTIVAL FOR CHILDREN.” The next line explained the first: “We are a church and don’t believe in Halloween.” For the next mile and a half, I thought about what was my verb for Halloween. Does a holiday require a belief to make it to the calendar? If celebrate means take part in activities of the occasion, I’m for that. If I have to mix in extreme terror or paranormal activities, count me out. Enjoy became my best choice. I just enjoy Halloween.
I like when it comes. Just the word October is pleasing to me. My favorite colors are the orange, yellow, brown spectrum. Mornings are crisp. The air smells smoky. The sound of Halloween to me is giggles and running feet and knocks on a door. After so much activity, this night is a herald toward Thanksgiving, Christmas, and a settling in for winter before awaking again to action.
My elementary celebrations were rather plain. I think just being disguised was the most important part, so we wore masks. Those 16 of us who inhabited two blocks were turned loose with a paper bag to go to houses we knew and have the adult say, ” Now who are you? Oh, I’d never have guessed.” Some pre-chosen house had a soup pot of cocoa. Other adults drifted in while we poured out our candy, sorted, and traded.
When our family had children, they went on both sides of the block, alone. I made good ghost costumes and then the boys created their own. One liked pirate motifs, and the middle one was always a hobo. That selection might not be politically correct now. It was very cheap though, and only required an old shirt and dirty face. They took their younger sister just one year. After each house she wanted to come home to show her stash. That slowed down the process.
My most important reason for liking Halloween is my daddy loved it. He carved a pumpkin to be next to the door and left a welcome light on. He believed heaven was a front yard full of children, and they were all his. Halloween was when those children came to him. He would go to the bank and get rolls of new nickels. He visited with each child, chuckling over their costume and discussing what they had in their bag, and then he would hand them a shiny, silver coin all their own. As they walked dow
n the porch steps, high voices would say, “Thank you, Mr. Joe.”
Halloween is not a time for begging. We are welcomed and gifts freely given. Smiles and good wishes follow us down the sidewalk. The completion of the encounter is in our last word.
Thanks be to God for his inexpressible gift! Romans 9:15
Let Me Tell Ya 