American Spirit(s)

Ok, to move on to positive things... I am very excited to be in the US this year for Halloween, despite having recently been informed that Halloween is not the same as it used to be. People tell me that children only really go to hyper-organized halloween candy hunts (like easter egg hunts, only WRONG), out of FEAR (of violence, of razor blades in apples...)!! But, because of a recent event, I firmly believe that I may live in just the right neighborhood for trick-or-treating...

Twas a bright, sunny, late summer day, with just the slightest crispness in the air to let us know the cold months are on their way. I was contentedly typing away, translating, Le Husband happily model-building in the dining room, when suddenly, a young Norman Rockwell painting-come-to-life knocks on our door. I noted his boy scout uniform with glee and bounded outside to greet him. He was selling (of all the possible horrors) caramel popcorn... Of course, I had to order some. What if I said no and he never came back? What if the most innocent of America's youth went out like a light, because no one believed in them anymore? What if I didn't buy any and then he decided not to come back on Halloween? and worst of all... what if my own unborn children never know the silly, spooky, fun, exciting, mysterious, brisk joy of an evening of trick-or-treating? Not to mention the lead up to it (which in my family, was almost the best part - the aftermath being more of a sickening, candy-hiding, jealous and gluttonous experience), during which my parents managed to put together intelligent, creative costumes, that outshown even the store-bought ones the "luckier" kids had.

I'll never forget the year I went as Joan of Ark and my brothers were some kind of medieval knights. My father dropped by the local Baskin Robbins one day after work and was given several of those large empty ice cream containers, which he then carved and spray-painted into helmets. Our tunics were hand-sewn by my mother and the under-layer of chain mail was spray-painted thermal long-johns. I don't think Falls Church had ever seen such creativity and excitement over a Halloween costume as my little family exhibited that year. When so much effort goes into it, it becomes more than just a hunt for candy. It's a family festival, bringing everyone together.












Looking back at those photos today and thinking about that young boy scout, I feel delight and hope for our future. I look past the bleakness I see every day in the world, those moments that make me think I might not really want to add my genes to the mix of future generations, and I imagine my children living in a better world. My hope is unrealistic, idealistic and bittersweet, but it's hope and, sometimes, that's enough.