This year was Lucy's first trick-or-treat experience, and Rebecca's third. The first time Rebecca went out at Hallowe'en, she was fearless. She was fascinated by every Hallowe'en display in the neighbourhood (there are always two or three houses that go all out). The second time, she had learned to fear, and her trip was short. This year, she was only afraid of the really crazy places, and was otherwise willing to go until she couldn't carry her own goody bag. Lucy is still young enough not to know to be very afraid. She loved being in costume, but only truly realized the purpose of the evening after the first three houses or so. After that, she started running down the street to the next location. By the time we retired her, she was so tired she could barely walk. She just seemed to want to sit on the curb and hunt for chocolate in her bag. Lucy was very charming with the people in the neighbourhood. She was probably the youngest trick-or-treater we saw, and while she couldn't manage to say "trick or treat", she always said Thank-you, Bye, and she also blew kisses and waved. Usually Greg does the rounds with my Dad and the girls, but this year I took a turn. Sadly, I was mostly relegated to the position of photojournalist (for which I am most unsuited), since the girls preferred to walk with Grandpapa.
I had an unexpectedly positive feeling about humanity as a result of taking the girls trick-or-treating. Perhaps it was encountering so many positive reactions to my children from the strangers (and the non-strangers) in my neighbourhood, or maybe it was just the fact that so many different people are willing to participate in this activity for the sake of children, with little benefit and possibly some inconvenience to themselves. It's a perspective on Hallowe'en that I haven't really had before (answering the door and dispensing of candy leftovers tends to give one a combination of mild irritation and guilt).