Remember Your Halloween Adventures?

Do you remember your best Halloween?

Not the Halloween when you got the most candy.

Not necessarily the Halloween when you had the best costume.

I'm talking about the Halloween you still remember.

Perhaps you were six years old, wearing a costume your mother made at the kitchen table. Maybe you were a ghost, a cowboy, a princess or something that was supposed to be a monster but looked more like a pile of old blankets.

Perhaps you remember going door to door with your friends, carrying a pillowcase that seemed enormous at the beginning of the evening and somehow wasn't big enough by the time you came home.

Maybe you remember the house with the best candy.

Every neighbourhood had one.

There was always a house where you knew you were going to get the good stuff.

And there may have been another house that gave you an apple.

An apple!

You probably didn't appreciate the nutritional wisdom of that homeowner at the time.

You were on a mission.

Candy was the currency.

Halloween was an adventure.

And that's what I want us to remember this Halloween.

Because there will be thousands of little adventurers heading out into our neighbourhoods today.

Some will be tiny.

Some won't be so tiny anymore.

Some will be dressed as superheroes. Some will be witches, ghosts, firefighters, princesses, monsters or characters from movies and video games we don't recognize.

Some costumes will be homemade.

Some will look as though they cost more than the house they are visiting.

Some children will be shy and barely whisper, “Trick or treat.”

Others will announce themselves as though they have been elected mayor of Halloween.

And there will be teenagers.

Some of us may be tempted to think they are too old to be going door to door.

I would suggest we give them a break.

Maybe Halloween is one of the few nights when they are still allowed to be kids.

Maybe they aren't quite ready to give up the magic.

Maybe they are creating a memory they will carry for the next 70 years.

We don't know what we don't know.

And that includes what is happening inside the head of the child standing at our door.

Perhaps that costume took weeks to put together.

Perhaps the child has been looking forward to this night for months.

Perhaps they are nervous.

Perhaps they are having a difficult year and tonight gives them a chance to forget about it for a few hours.

Perhaps this is their first Halloween in the neighbourhood.

Perhaps this is their last Halloween before they decide they are too old.

We don't know.

But we can make the few seconds they spend at our door memorable.

We can smile.

We can say, “Great costume!”

We can ask their name.

We can let them choose their candy.

We can laugh with them.

And when the teenagers arrive, we can resist the temptation to say, “Aren't you a little old for this?”

Instead, perhaps we can say, “Happy Halloween!”

Because here's the thing.

One day, those children will be sitting where we are sitting.

They'll be the ones answering the door.

They'll be the ones buying the candy.

And they'll remember the people who made Halloween special.

Maybe they'll remember the grandmother who always had the best treats.

Maybe they'll remember the man who complimented their costume.

Maybe they'll remember the house where someone handed them two pieces of candy instead of one.

We may never know that we have become part of someone's childhood memory.

That's a pretty wonderful thought.

We spend a lot of time talking about what we leave behind as we get older.

Money.

Houses.

Photographs.

Possessions.

But perhaps one of the most important things we leave behind is much smaller.

A memory.

A smile.

A kind word.

A moment when somebody felt welcome.

Halloween gives us a chance to do that.

So, this year, when the doorbell rings and you hear that familiar chorus of “Trick or treat!”, remember the child you once were.

Remember the excitement.

Remember the costumes.

Remember the pillowcase.

Remember running from house to house with your friends.

Remember believing that the world was full of possibilities.

And then open the door.

Welcome the adventurers.

Because that's what they are.

They are heading out into the darkness, knocking on doors they have never knocked on before, meeting people they don't know, wearing costumes that allow them to become somebody, or something else for a night.

They are discovering.

They are exploring.

They are making memories.

They are having an adventure.

And isn't that exactly what we were talking about?

You don't know what you don't know.

Those children don't know what adventures life has waiting for them.

Neither do we.

So, let's encourage them to explore.

Let's give them a little candy and a lot of encouragement.

And perhaps, while we're at it, let's remind ourselves that we don't have to stop having adventures just because we've accumulated a few more birthdays.

This Halloween, don't just hand out candy.

Hand out a welcome.

Smile at the little ones.

Smile at the not-so-little ones.

And when you close the door after the last trick-or-treater has disappeared into the night, take a moment to remember your own Halloween adventures.

You may discover that the magic was never really about the candy.

It was about being young, being curious, being brave enough to knock on a stranger's door and discover what was on the other side.

That's something none of us should ever outgrow.