We looked forward all month to that last day of October. Seven little children prodded down the dirt road dressed for the cold weather, pillow cases with only the eye holes cut out of them while the mouth remained behind the pillowcase to capture the warm breath exhaled to keep the face warm, it was Halloween.
This was no subdivision we were visiting. This was a country road with the houses being at least 1/2 mile apart. No street lights guided our way, no parents followed in a vehicle to make sure we were safe and there was no x ray machine to check our loot for poison or razors. We were country kids stumbling down that road, taking shortcuts across the icy creeks, hands numb and our paper sacks growing with the candy we collected. An orange, an apple and sometimes a popcorn ball found it's way into our sacks.
For country children in a time and an era of low income living, these treats were what we had waited all month for.
The "trick" part of this night was usually an outhouse or a bus stop upended by the older fellows wandering the night.
Many years the snow was knee deep or at best, it would be a cold dry night. It never deterred the seven of us from setting out on our long walk from house to house.
A storm blew through here last night. We knew it was coming and would be followed by lower temperatures. Some of the surrounding parishes decided to have their Halloween night on the 30th; the night before the storm.
Lafayette Parish held tight to their schedule of having it on the 31st. The storm blew in last night, the rain poured and poured; the streets held water and the night was miserable. The parish cancelled the event at the last moment.
I turned off the porch light and stood on the carport watching it rain. Memories of early Halloween nights buzzed through my head. The neighbors had small children and all the porch lights were on for their friends' children to stop by. Tables and chairs graced the front lawns, the homeowners visiting with friends while waiting for the ghosts and goblins. All those children are grown and the porch lights are off. There are only two of us on this street that participate. I live in an "old" neighborhood with very few children around. I miss the sounds they make; the laughter and the chatter.
I munched on a few of the mini chocolate bars that filled the long wicker basket on the coffee table, slipped into a pair of pajamas, turned the mini blinds open at my bedside, and alternated between watching the rain through that window and the TV across the room.
November 1st! The store shelves will be filled with Christmas offerings. One holiday past, two more on the way and the merchants will be busy.
It's time for me to collect Carrie and deposit her at her school. I enjoy this time with her. Sometimes she is talkative and some times we ride in silence, the only sound the radio station she prefers.