KING-SIZED HALLOWEEN
“Can we
go there first?” Henry points down the road with his black-gloved finger.
The feathers of his big black wings stretch over his older brother, Solomon, who is dressed as his favorite Star Wars character.
“Can we, Mom? Can we just go there first?” Henry asks again.
“I don’t know,” I say. This year there are fewer porch lights lit, fewer people giving out candy.
“It must be the economy,” my husband says. “People can’t afford to give out candy.” We pass other trick-or-treaters along the way.
“I can hear the music,” Henry
says.
“Me too!” Solomon shouts.
“Listen, that house might not be giving out big candy bars this year,” I say, preparing
them. “Maybe they’re giving out regular ones. Okay? I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
We follow the sound of the organ to the doorstep. A woman dressed as a queen, complete with a crown, plays spooky music on a keyboard on her front porch.
The boys climb the steps. They marvel at the table covered with rows and rows of king-size candy bars. “Help yourself,” the woman says sweetly.
“Just one,” I remind
them.
Henry’s and Solomon’s eyes grow wide as they make their selection. Their smiles are huge. The woman keeps playing the organ, but I see her looking at the boys, watching their expressions. She smiles.
“Thanks,” I say. “It means a lot to them.”
“Pleasure’s all mine,” she answers.
As we walk to the next house, Solomon looks down at his huge candy bar. “I know why they call them king-size,” he says. “Cause when you get one, you feel like a king, right?”
Dear Lord, thank You for the generosity of others that makes us feel
special, that makes us feel loved.
