Not-So-Haunted
Houses
By
Jeanne
Moseley
Each and every
Halloween, my husband and I set up camp in our front yard as we enjoy
the menagerie of ghosts and goblins who come in search of savory
sweets. Our street has become a favorite for families who bring
children by the "van load" to what's known as a safe haven.
I'm both amused and endeared by my husband's enthusiasm in this annual
event. It's nothing to see him carefully selecting the best candied
treats for a Sleeping Beauty or Snow White, and then turn to scream
with fright at Count Dracula.
Voted "Mr. Manners" in the 6th grade himself, he also takes this time
to teach a few boys how to behave. With a kind but sometimes serious
voice, you'll catch him saying, "Now slow down" or "Share with your
little sister" or "Aren't you a little old for this?"
But they love him, as do I, because he makes them feel special ... no
matter how scruffy or worn their costumes.
I'm always reminded of my own Halloween activities as I watch the
parade of children up and down our street. Parents accompany each group
and stand in the background, keeping a watchful eye. Without even a
spoken word, we understand how much they appreciate what we do.
Things were definitely different during my generation. Parents stayed
home and let us loose as we ran from house to house through our
neighborhood streets. The only peril we faced was a few boys out to
scare the dickens out of us girls, and we never gave a thought to
checking for unsafe candy wrappers.
Mostly, I recall our idea of a haunted house. Easily entertained, we
didn't expect much excitement from these events, typically held at the
church hall, and that was probably a good thing. We would line up to
run our hands through cold spaghetti, squash grapes between our fingers
and walk down a corridor of black cardboard ... only to be slightly
frightened by someone grabbing for our hair.
We really did 'bob for apples' and there were always, and I mean
always, popcorn balls and caramel apples. Seldom did anyone have a
store-bought costume. Mostly, we designed our own outfits and cost was
a factor, for sure. White sheets were used for everything from ghosts
to Roman soldiers, and glitter could turn just about any young girl
into a Fairy Princess.
Your dad's shirt and a rope? Voila! You were a hobo. And for the deluxe
version, tie a bandana on the end of a stick and smear dirt on your
face.
What I loved about Halloween, I suppose, is still true for kids today.
You get to pretend you're someone else, are rewarded by free candy and
get to stay up late on a school night.
All of this a tradition worth honoring.
Copyright
©2000 Jeanne Moseley