I mentioned last week that I’m generally not a fan of Halloween – and I’m especially not a fan of the whole trick-or-treating thing. I know I sound like a curmudgeon, but . . . now that my kids are grown, I can speak freely about Halloween. (I DID pretend to be excited about it with them when they were little. But I was not.) Now I can just admit that . . . it’s NOT my favorite day. I don’t mind supplying candy for the roughly 250 trick-or-treaters we “entertain” every year (I don’t have that many kids in my neighborhood, but we’re a “drop-off” point for lots of kids) (and I don’t mind that at all because I believe every kid deserves a safe and friendly place to trick-or-treat), but it’s just a logistical nightmare for kids to trick-or-treat at our front door (the giant hill; the lack of a clear path to our front door from the street in front of our house; the big-ass rock wall; the porch planters . . . yada yada). Most years I feel like all I do is yell at kids. Don’t jump from the rock wall! Watch out — the hill is slippery in the rain! Be careful when you step off the porch! Just call me . . . The Halloween Curmudgeon. (It all wears me out.)

This year, I was really, really not looking forward to it all . . . because Tom was out of town and I was going to have to manage the masses on my own. I nearly decided to just “go dark” this year. No candy. No lights. A TRUE . . .  Halloween Curmudgeon.

But in the end, I caved.

I set out my cute little pumpkin lights. I dragged out solar lights to mark the ledge of the treacherous rock wall. I got my candy ready (in the plastic bowl I bought in 1994 at my local hardware store for $2.98) (price tag still intact). And then . . .  I channeled happy memories of my own childhood Halloweens and my kids’ happy trick-or-treating outings . . . and I waited.

It turned out to be a beautiful fall evening (so rare; usually Halloweens here are wet and windy and cold and “first snow” kind of evenings). It was crisp and clear with leaves gently falling. It looked like those cozy trick-or-treat scenes you see in movies (before the terror begins, y’know?) — families on foot, kids running crazy, parents with to-go cups partaking in “trick-or-drink” (an actual neighborhood tradition) (shhhhh – don’t tell). The kids didn’t have to hide their costumes under winter coats. No one had to protect their candy stash with an umbrella.

It was picturesque . . . and a little bit magical.
Happy voices rang out through the streets.
The mood was festive.
Everyone was enjoying the ALL of it.

Even.
The.
Curmudgeon.

Seriously . . . spirits were high. Parents looked relaxed and happy. Kids were having fun. Everyone at my door was chatty and excited and polite and – above all – KIND. To each other and to me! Kids were eager to talk about their costumes and explain to me who they were if I couldn’t tell. They helped each other maneuver my treacherous porch — and were especially kind and helpful to those kids trudging diligently up my impossible hill in their inflatable T-rex and rainbow unicorn costumes. Several kids asked to pet my dog (JoJo was thrilled). THREE separate trick-or-treaters asked if they could please-roll-down-my-hill (very fun to watch — because of course I said yes). Everyone said thank you. No one was grabby with the candy. The older kids (my favorite trick-or-treaters, actually) showed off their clever group costumes . . . a bunch of bananas (8 teenage boys in banana suits; they told me they were “very aPEELing”), a group of “victims” from a car crash – complete with an ambulance chaser and an EMT, a group of 4 tween girls each dressed to represent a different Taylor Swift “Era” . . . So clever! And they were all so pleased when I liked their costumes – and were eager to share their stories. They complimented my décor, my dog, my candy — even my old plastic treat bowl. I ran out of candy before I ran out of trick-or-treaters. As I was turning out the lights and calling it a night, a last group of teens appeared and I had to explain that I was all out of candy. “Aw, nuts!” one of the kids said. “I always love to come here because you have good candy and a great dog.”

I could go on and on, but I won’t. I will say, though, that I’ve never had a Halloween like this one. It was the MOST fun Halloween I’ve had since I was a child. It all made me feel . . . GOOD; a feeling I don’t usually get from Halloween.

It felt like . . . community. Like we were all sharing a great experience . . . together. Kids and grown-ups were light-hearted and helpful and KIND . . . on what often feels like a greedy-grabby day.

It was . . . HOPE . . . right there in my trick-or-treat candy bowl.
I was offering hope and attention to the kids in my neighborhood — and they were giving it right back.
We were keeping each other safe and feeling “normal” in a dumpster fire world.
And it felt GOOD.

I didn’t expect this.
At all.
But I’m glad to have experienced it.

You just never know where you’re going to find hope!

=====

The pumpkins at the top of the page? They belong to my darling little across-the-driveway neighbors. You may remember them as the very enthusiastic kids who have lemonade stands in the summer.