Halloween Candy

My husband handed out the Halloween candy tonight, for the first time in years. It’s not that he’s some kind of Halloween Grinch. It’s just that up until this year, he’s been away on business for Halloween.

He missed all the years when I took our little witch and mummy, or bride and devil, or cheerleader and football player Trick-or-Treating. He missed the later years, when our kids and their friends would gather at our big, old, scary (yes, it is actually haunted…) house to bob for apples, watch scary movies and play Hide-and-Seek with all the lights off.

Most recently he missed sitting with me on the front porch to hand out candy to all the little witches and mummies and brides and devils that still come by. For a few of those years Holly - our old, but still very spry Cocker Spaniel - would sit next to me, wearing a Halloween headband or collar, enthusiastically wagging her little bump of a tail as the kids petted her head and told her how cute she looked.

When Holly died, Gracie - our old but still very friendly, black Mutt mix - would sit with me, also wearing some goofy headband or collar. She, too, would thump her long fluffy tail enthusiastically while all the little ghosts and goblins made their choices from the candy bowl, then thanked us, and yelled “Happy Halloween!” as they ran down the walk into the scary, wonderful, treat-filled night.

The past few years I’ve handed out the candy alone. The new dogs are too rambunctious to join me on the porch - and besides, these evenings belong to Holly and Gracie, who sometimes, I sense, make their way back, however briefly, to sit next to me on the porch and greet the kids as they present their pillow cases and pumpkin buckets, yelling “Trick-or-Treat!” - those wild, expectant, excited smiles on their bright little made-up faces.

Yes, this year, Mr. Clark was with me to hand out the Halloween candy. You see, he was laid off in early July, after years of successful work in homebuilding software. Although it was a step down from his past “jet set” or at least airport-filled life, he seemed to enjoy asking the kids what they were, and helping them pick which “just one” candy they could take from the bowl. He complimented almost each and every one of them on how wonderful their costumes were. He (and the thumping-tailed ghosts of Holly and Gracie) had a pretty good time.
In years past, I’ve left the porch lights on as long as trick-or-treaters have continued to come to the door - giving out bags and bags of candy, long into the night. This year we had to turn the lights out around 8 because the two bags of candy Mr. Clark bought were gone. Initially, we weren’t going to buy any Halloween candy this year – unemployed times being what they are. But Mr. Clark lobbied heavily to “celebrate this holiday “just a little bit - with a couple of bags of candy.”

“You can’t give out no candy on Halloween,” he said. “What kind of a deal is that?” And, he’s right.

What have times come to when you can’t find it in your heart (and budget) to greet the little things that go bump on a Halloween night with a treat of some type? After all, in the words of good ole’ Abe Lincoln – who did actually make one appearance at our door last night – “…let us confidently hope that all will yet be well.”