My husband and I are taking our daughter Trick or Treating for her first time today. We’re not doing the door-to-door thing; we’ve recently moved into this neighborhood, and other than occasionally chatting with a couple of our neighbors, we really don’t know anyone around here. So, we’re taking our daughter to a nearby venue that puts on an annual Halloween party for kids. Part of me is excited for this begining of our family’s Halloween tradition, but part of me is saddened that my daughter will probably never have the same kind of Halloween experiences I had as a child.
When I was growing up my family lived in the country, a few miles outside of a very small town. My parents had to drive my brother and I around to nearby neighbor’s houses to Trick or Treat; people my family had known for many, many years. We would also drive to my grandparent’s houses, several miles away.
After my parents divorced, my mom moved to a nearby city. It was there that my brother and I were able to go door to door on Halloween. It was fun because it was new. But looking back on it all now, my fondest memory of Trick or Treating was receiving the homemade popcorn balls from one of those family friends out in the country. Even as a young child I appreciated and enjoyed the simplicity of that lovely popcorn ball. My family was always welcomed into that home where we would chat for a few minutes about our costumes, and the recent goings-on at school. Then the grown-ups would do their own chatting while my brother and I chose the best looking popcorn ball from the bowl.
I romanced the idea of creating my own homemade treat to hand out this year. That desire was won over by a pesky little voice in my head telling me that no parent would allow their child to consume something that wasn’t tightly wrapped and purchased from the grocery store. After pondering that thought for a while, I have come to the conclusion that it’s actually my own fear that I am projecting onto everyone else. I am the someone who wouldn’t allow my child to eat even the prettiest homemade treat from someone I didn’t know…so why would anyone else??
My spirit has been broken! Oh how I long for that sense of community again! Even living out in the country, where “next-door” was a half-mile away, my family had stronger ties to our neighbors than I have now living FEET away from my neighbors.
My daughter’s Halloween traditions will not be a carbon copy of my own, but I hope that when she is my age looking back on her experiences, she will have memories that evoke the same kind of joy and nostalgia that I have for my own memories.
