Teenagers in the Parking Lot

Our pumpkins still sit beside the walkway outside our front door, although one of them is leaning more each day. Across the street, a bale of hay still serves as a pedestal for some gourds that the neighbors put out in late October.

So with a splash of orange over there and two spheres of it over here, perhaps you will excuse me if I tell a story from the night before Halloween.

Although it was early, it was dark, because the time had changed. The boy was at a friend's house with a mass of other kids. We decided to get something to drink at the Exxon, and so with dog in tow we headed out into the night.

As we crossed the elementary school parking lot, we saw a group of teenagers walking our way. They were laughing loudly and walking close together. There were boys, and there were girls. And there was a tall one in the back, dressed in a flowing black gown and a pointed witch's hat.

The tall black one in the back noticed us. His eyes lit up. He smiled. And as that troop of teenagers walked past us, he walked over to us and bumped into my shoulder and said, Hello.

And that is my story. I tell it for three reasons. First, it was the night before Halloween and he still decided to dress up. That's remarkable courage for a teenager who might otherwise be more concerned with not sticking out. Secondly, his outfit was that of a witch not a warlock. He's comfortable in his skin. It never occurred to him that someone might give him grief for not being manly. And finally from the midst of his friends, he still walked over to us and say, Hello. That's not something many parents of teenagers get to enjoy.

And now my story is done.

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