Tim carved a pumpkin for us to light and set on our steps this Halloween. We didn’t have too many trick-or-treaters; our block is short and we are set high on a hill. It takes a lot of work to climb the stairs for our candy. I always reward heavily for any effort. We did have some cute kids though, a Tigger, an alligator, and a few princesses.
On Monday, I began Bible study with the women at the county jail with the question, “What was your favorite Halloween costume for either you or one of your kids? “ Our conversation took off. They had so many Halloween stories. One had made at dragonfly costume for her 4-year-old daughter, another spoke about how her sons wore the same skunk costume even though they were 10 years apart in age. She had saved the costume despite all their moves.
Another woman talked about dressing up as a witch. Our conversation then moved on to how witches were not wicked, but often healers and midwives. Witches knew the plants and herbs that could be used for healing. One woman then shared that she was a healer. She had been taught by her grandfather; he had passed some of his ancient wisdom on to her. But he had also warned her that drugs were bad medicine and that using them could not only harm her but also the people she might be trying to help. Tears flowed as she spoke of her grandfather. We assured her that there was still time for her to follow the path he had shown her.
The sharing of stories has always been an important part of Halloween. The women at Bible study loved hearing about its origins. I shared with them how Halloween came from the Celtic tradition known as the Festival of Samhain. The Celts celebrated November 1 as their New Year and so the night before this they would gather as a community.
They would gather around communal bonfires and share stories. The stories weren’t scary stories, but memories of those they loved who had died that year. They would also dress in the clothing of the people who had died, hence our costumes. And vegetable sacrifices were offered. That’s why we still carve pumpkins.
At sunrise they would each take a hot coal from the communal fire to start their own fire in their hearths at home. They began their new year sustained by the stories of the people they loved. It truly was a hallow or sacred evening.
The Celts knew there is a thinness to this time of year. The veil between the living and the dead does seem more sheer. In the naked trees, the leaves that crunch beneath our feet we see, hear, and even smell the transient nature of life.
Our hope is that there is more beyond this shedding of leaves and life. There are angels and healers all around us, some of them even wear the St. Louis County blues.
I love our happy pumpkin perched on our steps. It is one way for us too to light our little fires against the darkness.
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