I once read an article which said "we must be responsible for our wake."
At first I was confused and my mind conjured up images of funerals. But then I realized the author meant wake, as in the waves a ship sends rippling out as it moves through the water.
I love that image; that I am having waves of impact as I move through my life. Sometimes it is daunting however; am I swamping other boats or knocking wading children into the water without even knowing it? It is powerful to pause and reflect sometimes on the impact we are having on the world.
Wednesday night, as my children went trick-or-treating, I thought of this idea of leaving a wake, and the difference one person can cause. There is a lady on my street who dresses up in costume every Halloween and decorates her foyer with an incredible collection of scary props.
The children call her home "The Witch's House". As soon as their young minds turn to Halloween in the fall, they speak with great excitement about going to "The Witch's House". I even know of families who come trick-or-treat on our street just to do her door.
It is a simple thing really. This individual spends some extra money on full-sized chocolate bars and building up an elaborate collection of decorations. She volunteers a night of time each year to dress up and creep out of her carport door, beckoning scared little children and cocky teens alike into her lair.
And yet, the ripple effects of her efforts have a huge positive impact on my children and many others. As we headed out for trick-or-treating at about 7 p.m., my residential street had the air of a street festival.
Neighbours, who hadn't seen each other in months chatted under umbrellas at the end of driveways while large gangs of children congregated in doorways. Among the children the rumours spread, and the excitement grew. "Which one is The Witch's House?", "Are we there yet?", "Have you already been to The Witch's House?", "Did you get a full-sized chocolate bar?"
Even us adults spoke to each other of house, con-firming it was up and running to avoid disappointed youngsters. This woman's little bit of extra generosity became a rallying point; a shared experience that brings together a neighbourhood.
I still remember a creepy house from my own childhood trick-or-treating. I was walking down a path towards a front door, pushing past some rhododendron bushes, when suddenly a zombie flopped out onto the path with a knife in his heart. I would have screamed, but my friend who was in front kept her cool and just calmly stepped over the moaning corpse with an "excuse me, please."
The young zombie actor jumped up and called jokingly to his friend at the door not to give us any candy as we were not sufficiently scared by his prank. My friends and I laughed and laughed and re-enacted this story many times that night and in the years to come. Beyond the candy, and we did get some, that young man's spirit of fun created a lasting memory I still enjoy to this day.
I know my boys will never forget The Witch's House. I don't know the woman who creates this special part of Halloween, but whoever she is, I thank her.
As the dreary wet days of November begin, perhaps it is time we all reflected on the wake we are leaving. If each of us, in our own way, tried to do some small projects of generosity, community building or kindness, this dark season would be a lot brighter all round.
Sarah Dakin is a mother of three who appreciates the many volunteers whose generosity makes our community a better place.
