The porch light's been extinguished, the friendly ghost that howls "Happy Halloween" silenced, and I am approximately $40 worth of penny candy lighter, but I love Halloween.
I think it's because of my mom, Mary. She was born blind, but loved the costumes and revelry of Halloween. I grew up in more innocent times, when you could hand out homemade treats. And my mom would get up really early to pop lunch bags of seasoned popcorn to give to the kids who came to the door. They loved it. In her later years, when store -bought was the safety decree, she switched to penny candy, too, and I felt bad about that because the popping was a service she performed for love.
She had a little metal counter that she'd keep on her hand and as she dropped the candy in to the bags she'd click away, then gleefully tally it at evening's end.
I use the counter now. And I inherited her delight in opening the door, though I can gaze at the pirates and princess and scary goblins, while she had to say "what are you this year" as she directed them to hold their bags out where she could feel them.
I like to open the door with a loud, "What did you bring me?" Sometimes, the littler ones shyly offer me my pick of their treasure and I laugh and give them triple the candy.
We live now at a crossroads, the only actual house on our side of the street, between two neighborhoods. We get children from both. And because Beaux decorates like crazy and the ghost yells "Happy Halloween," we sometimes have kids 20 deep on our porch. Seriously.
I remember living in an apartment in college and being disappointed I only had about 20 trick or treaters. I have friends who say no one stops. Tonight, we got 268 before 10 and a few stragglers after. The teens, to my surprise, were the ones most apt to say thanks. The littles told me repeatedly my house was "pretty" with its graveyard and zombies, pumpkins and ghosts. Their parents stood at the end of the drive (except the ones that carried their own trick or treat bags -- what's that about?) and took photos.
It was not the biggest crowd; I once clicked 371 on a spooky night. But I feel sorry for the folks who don't bother to stay home and greet the kids with treats. A lot of houses are dark because both parents go out with their children. They miss the part about giving, although they do the receiving part okay. Me? I could care less how much the girls bring home. But I love the excited buzz of children on the porch, the surprise of "You're Jeni's or Aly's mom!" from classmates who live further away, the sheer pageantry of the evening.
And I think my mom would have liked this house on Halloween. It draws the kind of crowd she craved.
Happy Halloween, Mama.