Halloween Tales

"He's a lion not a tiger, Nana."  That's Josh, with the Uncle Sam hat.

 Oops, here's the revised tale! 

It was Halloween night, Sylvania 2013, and the little lion--tail wagging, ears perky, whiskers alert--walked through the woods to grandma's house.  Along the winding path he met a . . . .Santa Claus? 

Wait, where's the big bad wolf?  "No big bad wolves in this forest, Nana," grandson Kyle grinned.  "Just me and a friendly lion, and that would be my brother Chase.  He's harmless."

"Well, I like that story better," I replied.  "But Santa, you're a little early this year!"

"Yep, I'm getting ready.  This time I'm getting the candy, though!"

"Good idea.  And instead of reindeer, you have a happy lion to go along with you."

"I'd bring Rudolph if I could.  Oh wait, next year that's what I'll be!"

"Great idea," I yelled after him, as their mom took Santa and the courageous lion into the dark night with other goblins. The light from smiling or frowning or fierce pumpkins lit the way.

The ghosts howled and laughed. 

What memories these times create!

I remember the time we were in Rochester for my Dad's funeral. No costumes? No problem! My kids and my sister's kids dressed up in my mom's clothes and shoes, adding as much jewelry and make-up as they could. What a group!  My brother Loren took them tricks or treating that year.  As sad as we were, we knew my Dad would have wanted it this way.  "Life goes on."

My mom remembered a Halloween when she took my brother tricks or treating. My sister and I, so much older than Loren, went our own ways.  We lived in Rochester, NY.  Loren was a few years younger than my grandson is now, about 8 or 9, dressed as a soldier, helmet on, gun at the ready.  My mom, as creative and clever as ever, dressed up as a flapper.  She remembered it this way:

Armed and Unarmed
byRoseLynn Curro

It is dark, crispy cold
A silence fill the trees.
Soft sounds, faint lights
and smell of burning leaves.
Suddenly,
war hoop cries and
bands of ghosts appear.
Howl, howl
Tricks or treats!
They charge, attack and disappear....
Hurry, hurry time to go,
The conquerors' battle won. 
Tired flapper, weary soldier,
the ghosts all had their fun.
Deep the night, frosty cold,
My soldier leaves his gun.
Welcome sleep, contented smile.
I'm his mother, he's my son.