As we get closer to All Hallows Eve, I can’t help but remember when candy was the only objective. The question was who could get the most and who could get the best kind. I remember taking a pillowcase around from door to door. By now I would have had my costume figured out and tried it on in front of the mirror at least three of four times. I had to be ready; there was only a small window of opportunity to achieve my goal.
Moana Street was the best place on the whole island, maybe the whole world to get your candy. Rumors of Rat Poison and razor blades always were in the news and it made the safety of trick or treating on a street you knew everyone that much more reassuring. Parents from the other side of the island would bring their kids to come and knock on our doors.
I remember some of the houses that were high lights on my candy crusade. Sister Curran never let you down, her witch costume always gave me the creeps, Brother Jackson loved to spook you out and you could always count on a new twist each year.
I remember one year that we switched day’s form Sunday to Saturday, where else in the world can you change a holiday day. I can honestly say I felt sorry for the kids who came all the way from Town on Sunday and got nothing to show for it.
Seeing all my friends as we traveled around the block was part of the fun, wondering if they were getting more candy then me.
After we got home pouring out my candy on the floor admiring the loot and picking out one or two that were the pick of the bunch.
We counted candy traded candy ate candy for weeks after the big day, eventually getting down to the caramel maples and the raisins, who gives out raisins anyway?