Violet Voices

31
October
2006

On Halloween

by Meredith Efken

During my 32 years on this earth, I’ve gone through several philosophical phases in my relationship with this holiday.

Up until I was 8 or so, it was one of my favorite days of the year. Not particularly because of the candy, but because I got to dress up in my dance costume from the spring before. It didn’t matter how chilly it was, I put on my costume with its scratchy netting tutu and sparkly sequins. It was all my parents could do to convince me I could NOT wear my dance shoes and MUST wear a jacket!

My dad would take my brother and me around the neighborhood. I remembered the pleasant feel of his large, rough hand, warm around mine. How fun it was to walk around the neighborhood in the dark. The chill breeze felt mysterious, and the vivid imagination of the writer I would become came alive as we walked among the other shadowed, costumed figures.

As I grew older, my parents became more concerned with the theological and spiritual history of Halloween. As Christians, they worried about the roots of the holiday, as well as the loss of innocence as more and more children were poisoned or harmed by tampered treats. They chose to bring us to activities at our church instead. We still got to dress up, but the wild mystery was traded in for the bustle of a carnival-type atmosphere at church. It was fun, but not the same.

I absorbed a lot of the negative feelings toward Halloween as I progressed into young adulthood. I never particularly hated the day, but I did feel some amount of self-righteousness in the fact that our family no longer participated in such a “satanic” holiday.

When my husband and I became parents, we decided that we would not have our children participate in Halloween at all. There were a lot of reasons–some were the ones I had been taught about the evils of the day, but some were more practical. We couldn’t afford spending $30 or more on a child’s costume that she’d wear only once. We didn’t want our children exposed too early to the frightening images, and they certainly didn’t need all that candy! Plus, it’s hard to know whose houses are trustworthy these days.

Now, I’ve relaxed a lot about the spiritual side of the holiday. The ancient roots of this day are not so much more evil than the pagan roots of Christmas or Easter, and we celebrate those holidays without hesitation. And even our concept of witches and ghosts are the stuff of fantasy and myth, not reality. So that doesn’t bother me.

The reason I now do not have our children participate in Halloween is because it’s become so much more gory and violent than when I was a child. The wild mystery has been traded in for horror and it seems the more revolting a costume, the better it is. These are not the images I want my children subjected to, especially the younger one who has an imagination as vivid as my own.

I feel sorry for what they miss out on–the chance to dress up and prowl around the neighborhood in the dark, visiting their neighbors when they’d normally be getting ready for bed. But as I see more “trunk or treat” events, church parties, and even trick or treating at the mall, it seems that the majority of parents are moving toward these safer venues. I think the days of neighborhood trick-or-treat may be almost at an end. It’s sad, really.

However, we have found a fun way to spend our Halloween evenings in recent years. Our church, the Omaha Vineyard, has a party at the home of one of our members. They have an acreage and a bonfire pit. We roast hot dogs, and have a jumping house for the kids, and even a hayrack ride. Some of the kids dress up in costumes, but a lot don’t.

Then, when it’s dark, and when we’re all full of hot dogs and sticky from roasted marshmallows and s’mores, we all gather around the bonfire for a story from another church member. He’s a master storyteller, and every year he delights us with a new yarn. As I sit by the fire, watching the flames dimly illuminate our friends’ faces, I feel the chill breeze mingling with the fire’s heat. It brings back memories of dark, mysterious nights walking the neighborhood clinging to my daddy’s hand. My imagination ignites, like the logs shoved into the fire. I snuggle my girls closer, enjoying the feel of being warm in the midst of this chilly night.

I’m glad my children will get a taste of that after all. I’m glad that we haven’t had to completely strip the mystery from our children’s lives. I’m glad to have a way to celebrate the imagination and even the supernatural in a way that is not harmful to our children. I hope they’ll have special memories of that time as I do.

Happy Halloween, everyone! May it be a wildly beautiful, mysterious, and imaginative night for you all.