the G.O.A.T act (an updated version)

Last year, I wrote about our Halloween tradition of becoming that house. You know, the one with the full-size candy bars. Apparently, in the world of trick-or-treating, full-size candy bars can earn you some serious G.O.A.T. status. There’s no going back now. And honestly, why would we?

For years, we did little for Halloween. It wasn't so much about its ancient Celtic origin as it was about geography. We lived on a rather large plot of land nestled between multiple housing developments in a golf community; kids simply didn't make their way to our home.

But moving South and into an actual neighborhood changed all that. We quickly discovered that October 31st wasn't just an evening for costumes and candy. It was clearly something more; It was a community event. And there's something about that which I find so good and right and true.

So, once again last night, we pulled out the big candy bars. This year's lineup included Sour Patch Kids, M&M's, Reese's with Oreos, Skittles, and, because apparently they're making a comeback, Ring Pops. :) (Who knew?)

We also had drinks available for kids and adults, and even more friends joined us this year in dishing out the treats. Our front porch was thus morphed into a festive gathering place, with friends visiting, neighbors stopping by, and hundreds of tiny trick-or-treaters making their way up the walkway.

The candy was fun. The costumes were better. And the reactions, too, were great to see!

But what I enjoyed most was everything happening around the candy.

Friends who might otherwise have spent the evening at home were together. Neighbors who might normally exchange little more than a wave had an opportunity to connect. Parents lingered. Kids ran from house to house. People laughed, talked and enjoyed an evening that was about so much more than collecting candy.

It makes me ask: why do we love these kinds of evenings so much?

I think there's something wonderfully human and also sweetly divine about gathering together, even when there's no particular reason to do so. We don't need a formal invitation, any elaborate plan or even a particularly meaningful occasion. Sometimes all it takes is a front porch and a willingness to open the door.

Community doesn't require grand gestures or organized events. It often happens in ordinary moments — the conversations, familiar faces and even the unexpected encounters with people we otherwise may never meet.

That's what makes Halloween so delightful here…

We're surrounded by people every day. But being around people and actually being in community with them are two very different things.

Community requires participation. A little intentionality. A willingness to show up, open our door, and make room for others. It’s full of difference, diversity, and all sorts of varied, unpredictable  perspective.

Also true is that absolutely everyone benefits.

The kids get their candy. The adults get something to drink and an opportunity to catch up. The neighbors and friends get an evening together. We all get to be part of something.

Maybe that's the real G.O.A.T. act. Not the full-size candy bars, as wonderful as they may be, but the simple decision to create genuine space where people feel welcome.

Community is a beautiful thing. It brings people together, reminds us that we're not meant to do life alone, and makes an otherwise ordinary October evening a little more extraordinary.

Respectfully…

AR