|Me (the witch) and the gang of trick or treaters.|
BUT....I have always loved Halloween!
As kids, some friends and I dressed up and went trick or treating. Living in a very small country town I guess we were bored and always seeking to make our own adventure! We knocked on doors, only to be greeted with blank stares, impassive shrugs and a few annoyed groans.
We were known as the difficult misfit kids anyway. The ones who wanted to play soccer, not netball, even though there was no soccer club. The ones who wanted girls to be part of the fire brigade training and races and climbed the tower and sat there in protest. The ones who asked the bishop to ask the pope to let girls serve on the altar. The ones who were running bike-a-thons in the holidays to raise money for ventures - the ones who were always upsetting the apple cart. That's not how people like things to be, in small country towns.
On our first trick or treating venture, walking at dusk, despondently chewing on an Arnott’s biscuit begrudgingly handed over by Mrs McCarthy, we knocked on the door of an unfamiliar house. We were greeted with a squeal of delight! “Oh my God! Trick or treat? Here? In Australia?” Living in the house was an American couple, recent additions to our town. And boy were they excited at our little band of trick or treaters! We were ushered inside, stuffed with lollies they had ready,“just in case”.
After that we went running home. On a sugar high and high for having made someone’s day – even if we had annoyed everyone else in the town!