Opinion: Halloween was great experience
Did a miniature IRS audit agent with angry eyebrows and a power suit knock on your door Halloween night? That was my daughter. This was the year she passed from shy-about-knocking to greed-fueled-sprinting. My job was to keep up and carry the water bottles.
I was watching from the sidewalk as you invited her with your porch light, opened your door, and gave her a gift. I hope she said “thank you.” I want to thank you. I know it can be a pain to give out candy on Halloween. How much should you buy? Will too many kids come? Or too few — leaving too many tempting leftovers? Do those beggars even notice the pumpkin you spent hours carving?
I want you to know that I noticed. I walked through the darkness watching the web of community being woven. My daughter might not recognize you tomorrow, but as she bikes through her town, she’ll know that she is passing doors that opened for her. She’ll know that she lives in a world where person after person got up from their couch and their television to answer her knock.
Thanks too to the “trunk or treat” party at the Methodist Church. (Your museum of horrors was just gross enough!) I love that when we go by, my daughter will know that though you are not our church, you are a congregation that went to a lot of trouble to throw a very sweet party. That matters. That is how I want her to think of churches not her own.
So Happy Halloween, Middlebury. You are teaching my child important things.
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