It really isn't hallowed

In between the time our jack o'lantern was smashed on the street and when the psych hospital where I was working was forced to overstaff because of cult behaviors by the patients that I lost interest in Halloween. In a time far away, children of appropriate ages would dress up as gypsies, pirates, ghosts, freckle-faced country bumpkins, and whatever other characters might be conceived from their parents closets and imaginations and carry their grocery bags to nearby homes. Friendly neighbors responded to surprise greetings of "Trick or treat!" by dropping candies or an occasional apple in bags that would hopefully survive the night. What excitement when those bags of candy were later dumped on the table at home. What joy to run their hands through their plunder and sort through the various chocolates, suckers, peanut chews, tiny bags of candy corn, bubble gum, and fruit flavored goodies and choosing favorites or those too irresistible to save for later. What stomach aches followed! Yes, Halloween lost its appeal when the creep factor became bigger than the fun factor. When I realized that it isn't all about a little ghoulishness or dressing up and getting candy, and that is in fact for some a celebration of the dark side, I decided it really didn't have to be a special day for me. When the Halloween paraphernalia hits the stores, I pass right by all the scary orange and black displays with nary a penny spent. But when that night comes, and I think of the old days and want to see the costumed children and their sweet little faces, I will give in and dash to the store for candy, that is if I am at home and not out tending the mentally ill, and by darn, I enjoy it.