Halloween 2015 was a wet one. My church Cornerstone Baptist hosted a rousing Trunk or Treat which was attended by hundreds of kids and their families. Hot dogs, drinks, chips and a variety of goodies filled not only their eyes but their tummies. It was a great way to share the Gospel. It took me back to my own memories of Halloween.
I remember dressing up as Zorro – the swash buckling hero whose dark good looks made many a heart leap. He was the one person I looked for when I went with my family to Disneyland. Other girls dressed as a princess but that year I wanted to be Zorro or better yet know Zorro.
Another year my Camp Fire group and I strategically hit the safe bet houses. Our group consisted of a half dozen pre-teen girls who did not consider dressing up to be too childish. That feeling would come soon enough. We knew one house for sure would prove to be worth the knock on the door. No wrapped candy from the store but honest to goodness home made goodies. Verna Turner worked as a hair stylist but always made the best Halloween fare – and this particular year – she topped herself. When Mrs. Turner opened the door mouth watering candied apples greeted us. Our oohs and aahs sincerely felt as we thanked her and proceeded to devour the luscious goodie.
By the time we trod through Forest Acres our sweet tooth was well and truly satisfied. We headed back to my home. I remember Linda Hawthorne still had her candied apple. She asked my sister if she had something to wrap the treat as she wanted to enjoy Mrs. Turner’s creation later? My sister replied she did and proceeded to cover the apple with tissue. Oops!!! Tissue? The apple soon became coated in Kleenex. I remember my sister apologized and another girl offered Linda her apple. It ended better than one could have hoped. Nothing much worse than a ruined home made candied apple from Verna Turner.
The last year I trick or treated was 1964 when I was 12. That might have been a bit old to venture out and get another sweet tooth fix? That year I went as one of the Beatles – even wore a wig. I remember the Kellys peered through their door at me and laughing. They gave me several candy bars. I even remember someone remarked I was getting too old to trick or treat. Tell that to my sweet tooth I said.
None of my friends went with me. They had gotten too big to trick or treat. They would dress up soon enough in high heels and wear make up. The mini skirt had not yet made a fashion splash. All that would soon be part of our wardrobes. That night – Halloween was a true rite of passage. I looked over my shoulder as I headed home as if to see the past receding. The future was certainly as intangible as the fall mist. For now – the future was the front porch light of my parent’s home which served as a beacon. I had outgrown the clothes of childhood and for now would have to trust my parents’ guidance and rock solid common sense to guide me the rest of the way.