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All Hallows' Eve |
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Under the porch light, witches three chalk cheeks, but blacked around the eyes (supposed to look like death, but not exact) hold out their bags; each cries “Drop in your stuff you owe us, see?” We think: “Agree! Agree!”
Then two cool guys, age fifteen anyway, in tux-like suits and angled hats carrying pillow cases; “drop in your stuff you rats” (they are about to draw their gats), they seem to say, “you owe us see ”. “ How great you look” say we they break the spell and smile away.
Then more come - we owe them all!
A friendly evening it has been; no snow, no frost, these young wild things of night - a lark! the walking dead enjoyed the dark their little stroll from house to house this hallowed eve. The spooks they half believe no frightened children lost,
Indeed, they are surrounded by a cloud of witnesses; whose silent deeds shape the dispositions, plant the seeds and stealthy streams of strength flow in- love poured and hungrily received and learning’s enterprise for decades shared. The little person grows, is cared for; and surrounding hope prevents the likely fall fussing over all. On this a person’s life is founded.
What Spirit gives the giving? Makes the taking? Reveals to us the ghosts Of goodness, from the time of our most blessed start conveyed from a much older heart?
This Spirit makes the moments twist and turn we waken to a hidden love and learn. It opens memory’s inner door to show a room of loveliness where the giver was a trusted guest those many years before.
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