A Halloween Story

Today is Halloween. I'd like to share with you my favorite Halloween memory.

In my family, Halloween of your 13th year was the last year you were permitted to go trick-or-treating. My mother had pretty firm ideas of what was too old to be dressing up and begging other people for candy (and as an adult, I can't say I disagree with her. But I digress.)

I was in a pretty serious car accident when I was 13, and got out of the hospital about a week before Halloween. I was on crutches and still in quite a bit of pain when October 31st came around. Needless to say, I was going to miss my final year of trick-or-treating.

That year was one of the really crappy Halloweens you can get in Western, NY - cold and wet. Not just rain, but this awful sleety icy stuff that drove most kids inside after only one or two blocks. 

My brother Andrew set out with a group of his friends to a neighborhood that had a bunch of housing developments all in a row.  One of the benefits of growing up in the suburbs.  I stayed at home huddled under the blankets, watching TV with my parents.  The boys were out for HOURS.  When they finally came home, cold, wet, laughing at the craziness of it all, they bore with them enormous pillowcases FULL of candy. Never before had I seen any of my siblings return from trick-or-treating with such loot.

Andrew dumped his candy out on the living room floor so Dad could "inspect" it for razor blades (and take a piece or two for himself, as was tradition.)  I looked longingly at all the chocolate spread before me from my chair. 

With barely a glance in my direction, Andrew cleaved a line through the pile of candy on the floor, dividing it neatly in half. 

"That's for you." He said to me, gathering the rest back into his pillow case. He left the room with his friends, off to do whatever it is boys do for the rest of Halloween night. 

Leaving me to awe over the generosity of my big brother.

Happy Halloween.