Click here for nice stories main menu

main menu   |   youngsters categories   |   authors   |   new stories   |   search   |   links   |   settings   |   author tools


Halloween Memories (youngsters:other, 1159 words)
Author: Pitter PatAdded: Oct 25 2003Views/Reads: 2968/1618Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
My Halloween exercise submitted using memories from yesteryears.
 



Wow! Look at all the candy you've collected! You have some great stuff
here! My, things are much different from the days I went 
Trick-or-Treating. What? How are they different? Have a seat and Nana 
will tell you a story. 

Let me look at your costumes.  Brian is Spiderman, Samantha is a
princess, and Alleanah is a pumpkin. You all look so cute. Where did 
you buy them? Wal-mart? I saw they had a whole row of costumes of every 
size and variety. 

When I was young, we made our own costumes. There was an occasional
store bought mask, but most years we would disguise our faces with 
mom's make up. 

My favorite costume was one of a scarecrow. I sewed a few patches on my
dad's old work clothes, stuffed straw in them to make them fit, and 
left straw sticking out around the edges of the sleeves and neck.  A 
borrowed straw hat and a corncob pipe from my uncle and a little dirt 
smeared on my face and I was ready to go. 

Many children dressed as ghosts on Halloween night. It was easy to cut a
couple of eyeholes in an old sheet and put it over your head. Of 
course, mother's always insisted the holes be patched after beggar's 
night was over. 

I didn't go to town and walk door to door to get treats as you do. There
were no church groups in parking lots giving out candy, nor police 
holding safe Halloween parties. 

After supper my aunt would arrive in her old pickup truck and my sister,
cousins, and I would climb into the back of the truck and begin our 
search for treats. 

The first stop was my grandmother's house.  As we entered her house, we
could smell the mouthwatering cookies she had baked that afternoon. She 
looked at all of our costumes, and told us how creative we all were. 
Soon she would give everyone a cookie and an apple to eat, and put a 
foil package of scrumptious cookies in our treat bag. 

Again we would scramble into the bed of the old truck and travel on
several neighbor's house. Some gave us a piece of candy or two then 
sent us on our way, others had home baked goods to share. 

Several miles down the blacktop road we would turn onto a bumpy gravel
road.  As darkness replaced daylight ghost like shadows filled the air 
and made the youngest children shiver. The older children would laugh 
their fear and tell ghost stories. 

A stop we all looked forward to was at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Fox. We
could smell their farm when we got near, for they had a dairy farm. 
Every year they would greet us with a warm welcome then treat us to a 
paper cup full of rich homemade ice cream. Most years they served 
vanilla ice cream, but I remember one year we had a pleasant surprised, 
chocolate ice cream. 

Several stops later we came to the home of my dad's friend. His wife had
died a number of years ago, so there were no home baked cookies or 
candies. Instead, he would have his kitchen table filled with wooden 
creation he had whittled. He would tell us to pick one, which was a 
difficult task. There was always a wide variety of items to pick from. 
He carved detailed animals, pumpkins, dollhouse-sized people, and 
things of all shapes and sizes. 

All the stops were fun, but my favorite stop was our last. Down a long
winding gravel lane sat a shack, which looked like a small breeze could 
knock it over. Several old dogs would greet us and walk us to the door. 
When we yelled Trick-or-Treat, two small ancient looking ladies would 
open the door and invite us into their warm kitchen. It was almost like 
going back in time, for they still used a wood stove for cooking and 
had a pump at the sink to draw water. Each of the ladies would 
franticly move around the kitchen pretending they had no idea we would 
stop by. 

The large figure of a young man would peek from behind the living room
doorway and shyly wave at us. When we waved back he would smile then 


Click here to read the rest of this story (53 more lines)



Authors appreciate feedback!
Please vote, and write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Pitter Pat has 20 active stories on this site.
Profile for Pitter Pat, incl. all stories
Email: Pitterpat@hotmail.com
Due to abuse, voting is disabled.
For a quick, anonymous response to the author of this story, type
a message below. It will be sent to the author by email.

stories in "other"   |   all stories by "Pitter Pat"  






Nice Stories @ nicestories.com, support email: nice at nicestories dot com
Powered by StoryEngine v1.00 © 2000-2014 - Artware Internet Consultancy BV