“Talk about your childhood wishes/You can even eat the dishes”*

by chuckofish

I have been thinking about Halloween and how back in the day, the getting of candy was really the big deal. No one had candy at home. Candy was something we got on special occasions and on Saturday mornings when we went to Spicer’s and spent a nickel on penny candy. Five pieces, which we picked out carefully, in a little brown bag. So a holiday like Halloween was about candy and the hoarding of it thereafter. Our mother made some pretty great costumes early on, but later, when we got older, costumes were secondary and frequently were thrown together at the last minute. It was the free candy that we wanted. Those mini candy bars were a seasonal treat and not available at other times of the year like they are now.

I remember when I was in kindergarten or first grade and I was going over to my best friend Trudy Glick’s house to Trick-or-Treat. She lived in a mansion on a street with other very large houses spaced far apart from each other. My older brother felt sorry for me because obviously we wouldn’t be going to very many houses. Anticipating quite a haul in our own neighborhood, he uncharacteristically and magnanimously actually said he would share his candy with me. Imagine our surprise when the denizens of Dromara Lane gave out full sized candy bars and I came home with a heaping bag of goodies. No apples or cookies or raisins. Lesson learned. (I have no memory of sharing with him, but maybe I did.)

Later, in college, Halloween was an excuse to wear makeup and to try to look sultry…

Now we just turn off the lights and ignore anyone who comes to the door.

Over the weekend we watched our share of “scary” movies: Signs (2002), Night Creatures (1962)–recommended by Paul Zahl–and The Scarecrow of Romney Marsh (1964). Both Night Creatures and The Scarecrow are based on a book by Russell Thorndike, Dr. Syn. I have to admit, I prefer the Disney version. Those historical movies from the early sixties, filmed in England and sometimes starring Patrick McGoohan, were very good. The Scarecrow of Romney Marsh really holds up. And who doesn’t love a story about an Anglican vicar who has a side hustle as a smuggler so he can steal from the government to help the poor…and, of course, the title song?

We all went to church on Sunday. As a special Reformation Day treat, the men’s ensemble (a sextet) sang “A Mighty Fortress is Our God” at the beginning of the service. At the conclusion the wee laddie turned to me and whispered, “That song was awesome!” and he applauded. Luckily, he was not the only one so moved. We had brunch together at home afterwards, which I hope will be our new Sunday routine.

I served Episcopal Souffle, but I may have to change the name now. Calvinist souffle?

We did not get to see the wee twins in their Halloween costumes, but we saw a lot of pictures.

Lottie was a mermaid (striped shirt optional) and the bud was Kion from the Lion King.

Daughter #3 whipped up the costumes as requested. Very wunderbar.

Meanwhile baby Katie sat out Halloween…

…and looked adorable doing so.

Today is All Saints’ Day, at least in the Anglican world. But it is still a good reminder to pause and think about all those saints who have influenced our lives.

On All Saints’ Day, it is not just the saints of the church that we should remember in our prayers, but all the foolish ones and wise ones, the shy ones and overbearing ones, the broken ones and whole ones, the despots and tosspots and crackpots of our lives who, one way or another, have been our particular fathers and mothers and saints, and whom we loved without knowing we loved them and by whom we were helped to whatever little we may have, or ever hope to have, of some kind of seedy sainthood of our own. 

Frederick Buechner, The Sacred Journey

Have a great week!

*Willy Wonka