Halloween has always been my favorite holiday, more beloved that Christmas because it’s the most magical day of the year when candy is almost as plentiful as snow on Christmas day! The trees shed red, brown, yellow and orange leaves that crunch under my feet, a grim reminder that winter’s chill isn’t far behind.
Every year the crisp October air prompted my father to take my twin brother, mother, and me to the local farm on Long Island to choose the biggest pumpkin we could find for the momentous occasion. That same night, after the dinner dishes had been cleared, Dad would put some old newspaper on the kitchen table, and my brother and me black magic markers and together we would draw a scary face for my father to carve with a sharp knife. We all looked on, fascinated, as he gutted the thing, scooping its slimy innards into a bowl. When he finished, my mother would provide a thick, white candle to place inside. We’d carry it gently outside, set it down on the front porch next to the front door and my mother would light the wick, giving the Jack’O Lantern an eerie glow for all to see.
Every Halloween our Catholic, elementary school had a Ragamuffin Parade. We had to wear horrid, plaid uniforms to class every day, so this welcome reprieve, a true blessing in disguise, enabled my friends and I to dress up in any costume we pleased! Some of my friends dressed…
