I’ve never been a huge fan of Halloween. When I was little, my dad used to take my little sister and I trick or treating and force us to say at every house, “we are beggars from the street, give us something good to eat.” No kidding. Every single house. The last time I went, I was 15. I had to take my sister who was 4 years younger than me. When we got home, my dad asked if we said what we were supposed to, at every house. If we didn’t, we couldn’t have our candy. I distinctly remember thinking that I would gladly have skipped the candy if we didn’t have to say that stupid thing–but I was an obedient daughter who always believed my parents would find out if I lied so yes, we did say the chant at every house. My little sister never got hung up on the things I did. She was always such a lighthearted child. She never seemed to mind saying it. Even now, I think I remember that so well because I was so embarrassed–I mean, anyone who knew us knew we were poor. Reciting that chant was beyond humiliating. In hindsight, I realize that may be the most engaged my dad ever was, in my life. And instead of appreciating the time he spent with us, I had to be a bratty kid who resented him for making me say something he thought was funny. Hindsight is 20/20.
I have tried to be a little bit fun about Halloween with my kids, always making them custom costumes. But, even as I’ve aged, the whole ‘evil’ and ‘murderous’ things that have so become a part of the holiday make me feel very ill at ease. I just find it all somewhat morose and frightening.
This one picture sums up a child at 9 o’clock on Halloween night:
Here are the rest of my cuties. I must admit, they do look adorable in their costumes. You catch a glimpse into their personalities by their choice in costumes.
Our oldest grandson was out with friends. Hope you all had fun trick or treating!