OCTOBER 2013
SUNRAYS | 77
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“SHE’S THE GOBLIN!”
Took my kids around the neighborhood so they could show off their
costumes and get a treat or two. My oldest of the three was a fourth-
grader then. Since we stayed in the familiarity of the neighborhood,
the children knew everyone and doorbells were answered with much
acclaim about their costumes.
One lady said, “Oh my! Little goblins!” To which my fourth-grader
replied, “No, we’re Trick or Treaters. Our mom is behind that tree―
she’s the goblin. She’s ‘gobbling’ all our candy!”
―Pat Anderson, N10
SPOOKS AND SPECTERS
Years ago, when I worked at a small public library, I was assigned to the
dinner-time shift on the night of Halloween. The building, a converted his-
toric mansion, was completely in order, empty and silent at 6 p.m.―except
for my presence at the front desk, with a tempting bowl of candy. Suddenly,
there was a sound that came from the adjacent non-fiction room. I walked
up and down the aisles in there, checking everything, and discovered that
a book had fallen on the floor; its title was
Ghosts, Spooks, and Specters
. I
spent the remainder of my shift outside, on the library’s front porch, until
some adorably costumed children and their parents came trick or treating.
―Carol Bowen, N41
THE REAL SUPERMAN!
Our son Casey was about 7 years old and dressed in a Superman costume
for Halloween. I was with him trick-or-treating in the neighborhood. I would
stay at the curb as he went up to the houses. At one house, I was at the curb
waiting when a mom and her probably 4-year-old son, who was also dressed
as Superman, started up the sidewalk. They met Casey coming down the
sidewalk in his Superman costume. When the smaller boy saw Casey, he
exclaimed, “Mom, look, it’s the REAL Superman!”
Everything is relative.
―Phillip & Barbara Vick, N5
COSTUME MALFUNCTIONS
Back in the ’60s my two friends and I
loved Halloween, but we had very little
money to buy outfits. So each October
we had to make do with things from
around the house. My poem describes
the inevitable “costume malfunctions”
that occurred on Trick-or-Treat night.
― Eileen Clark, N45
Halloween Chicken
I dressed up like a chicken for
My Halloween disguise.
I planned to knock on fifty doors
To get a sweet surprise.
I wished for yummy gummy worms,
And caramel chocolate bars.
I wanted jellybeans and fudge,
And suckers shaped like stars.
I longed for licorice spiders and
Some gooey vampire bats.
I prayed for juicy bubble gum.
I craved marshmallow cats.
I headed out at eight o’clock,
With Stephanie and Flo.
My head was filled with candy dreams;
An empty sack in tow.
I practiced strutting as we walked.
I flapped my feathered tail.
I scratched and cocka-doodle-dooed,
And hoped I would not fail.
But in the dark I tripped and fell
On sidewalk bumps and cracks
My chicken feet went upside down.
I landed on my back.
My pointy beak broke at the tip
My wattle split in half.
With feathers floating in the air,
My friends began to laugh.
Flo tried to reattach my beak,
But glue dripped on my face.
Steph taped the feathers on my back.
My suit was a disgrace.
There wasn’t time to do much more
The witching hour had come.
I hoped I’d still get candy, though
My outfit shouted “Dumb!”
So on that night I had to wear
My damaged chicken suit.
I hobbled to my neighbor’s house,
But all I got was fruit.
PHOTO BY CHARLIE WELSH
