More than Hello-ween: Change a Life Tonight

It’s that special time of year. The Christmas decorations are up, snowstorms are hitting the Northeast … so naturally, it must be that wonderful holiday where we greet creatures of the night and exchange pleasantries for candy.

Ah, Halloween.

I’m always a little amazed at the angst this holiday stirs up among certain Christians. Because, let’s be honest:

Kids dress up and ask neighbors for candy.

That’s it.

We’re talking about a solid -13 on the Heinous-O-Meter (maybe a -6 if the costume is inspired by a particularly bold Lady Gaga phase).

Do older kids make dumb or even sinful choices on Halloween? Sure.
But older kids make dumb or sinful choices on every night of the year — Christmas, Flag Day, take your pick.

I have great memories of trick-or-treating as a kid. These days, I’m on the other side of the door — part of the candy distribution system.

And honestly, as someone who loves story, nights like this fascinate me.

Because for a few hours, my story intersects with dozens — maybe hundreds — of other stories. People I’ll likely never see again.

And it usually looks something like this:

“Trick or treat!”
“Well hello there! Look at you guys! What are you, some kind of werewolf with a superhero cape? … Ohhh, got it. Here, take some candy.”
“Thank you!”
“You’re welcome! Have a great night!”
“Bye!”

And … scene.

Thirty seconds, tops.

But here’s the question that sticks with me:

What can happen in thirty seconds?

Whose life might I impact — even slightly — in that tiny window?

What about you?

When the doorbell rings, what kind of presence will you be on the other side?

Will it be the quick, awkward candy toss and door shut?
The lights-off, nobody-home approach?
The “here’s a pencil and a pamphlet” strategy?

Or will it be something more?

A moment of warmth.
A genuine smile.
A small but real kindness that a kid might actually remember.

Because the human story never stops moving.

And sometimes, it brushes right up against yours for just a few seconds before moving on.

Thirty seconds isn’t much.

But it’s enough to leave an impression.

Enough to create a tiny moment of joy.

Enough to remind someone — even briefly — that people can be kind.

So yeah… call it Halloween. Call it whatever you want.

But maybe the better question is:

What kind of story will you help tell tonight?