Cold, frosty air swirling the first snowflakes in at the open door of the woodshed… all the neighborhood kids crowded inside… bobbing for apples with faces stinging from the cold… warming up with hot, fresh-pressed cider… pin the tail on the donkey—finally a game I could beat the older kids at, where my experience not seeing much came in handy!

Among my best childhood memories are those of Halloween.

This particular year, I was dressed as a witch, the green warty kind, with a tattered homemade black dress and a store-bought pointy hat. Pa lifted the broom with me on it and spun around under the bare 40-watt bulb of the shed. Then we piled out into the night, racing up the lonely road, a few kids pulling sleds, a third of a mile to the first place, then keep on uphill in the snow until our legs ached.

We knocked on doors and filled bags with homemade treats and several pieces of candy. Someone had changed an outdoor light to a green bulb and it shown out over the fields and made me shiver with delight. The boys tried to scare me, saying a real witch lived there and she’d take me because I was dressed right this night. Even at that age, I was more interested than really afraid.

There were other years, when we went trick-or-treating in a town. And in someways it was better because there were more houses and thus more candy. But I always remembered that year, tramping the gravel road in the first snowfall. It was special enough to last nearly forty years, bright and crisp as a jewel of memory.

And of course, I wanted these kinds of things for my kids. I wanted them to know safe types of adventure and real wonder. I wanted them to touch the spirit world in a way that fosters respect and a healthy caution. And I wanted them to know that good, old-fashioned fun that makes your cheeks numb with cold and your voice hoarse from laughing.

But it wasn’t in our wyrd, not much at least. There was one year when the kids were very small when we managed to be in the US during Halloween. My daughter was old enough to kind of understand. My son was a toddler, lost and terrified in the darkness, uncomfortable in his costume and not even that interested in the candy.

Otherwise, we have spent this season in the Czech Republic. They have a day of devils and candy in early December, something that resembles a Christian remake of old folklore traditions involving mischievous land spirits and a pre-Santa figure. But they don’t really do Halloween.

There is a heavily Christianized tradition of visiting graves during All Souls. We go to my husband’s family plot and clean out the debris of branches, wilted flowers and burnt out candles. I lay offerings and pay my respects. The kids usually run around outside the walls and don’t want to be involved.

There is little of mystery or wonder to attract children to such a celebration. And American traditions of Halloween meet mostly with ridicule and disdain among the locals. Early on I enlisted neighborhood kids to have a party and they were game because, “Hey, candy is candy.”

But negative comments from adults eventually persuaded me to stop. And since then, I’ve had to find ways of making Halloween/Samhain good for my family, both in terms of the fun and the deeper spiritual connection to ancestors and the Otherworld.

Today with Covid still closing down so many countries, I hear people lamenting another lost holiday for their children. So, I thought I’d write something about how I’ve handled this over the years. It might provide some inspiration and help to those who are now suddenly pushed into a situation more like ours.

The fun part

When my kids were very small, I read about the tradition of Grandfather Deer taking children to meet ancestors in their dreams in the book Circle Round. My children grew up putting cookies and a bit of hay or corn tassel outside with the jacko-lanterns for Grandfather Deer and then racing back there at first light to enjoy a few small gifts.

Here is the video we made when my kids were very small that begins with this Samhain tradition.

The part of the tradition involving presents is based on the idea that children are closer to the ancestors, having just come from another world when they were born. And as such, I have insisted that gifts are only for very little children. My kids get enough plastic stuff anyway and the season is supposed to be more focused on gratitude and respect for ancestors.

So as they got older and braver the tradition has migrated outside. We dress up, though often not in traditional costumes—rather in whatever wild things we want to wear—and go out into the woods near our house at night. I creep out before the kids and place candles in jars at various stations along the way. Each station has a few pieces of candy and some sort of message, joke or fun activity.

The activity is moderately labor intensive for adults. I have to prepare and place the stations and then clean them up the next day. But it incorporates the fun, anticipation, dark adventure, cold weather experience, mild fright and sugar rush of old fashioned trick-or-treating. Some years we include one or two close friends who appreciate the tradition but sometimes we also do it alone.

My kids always look forward to these traditions and for them this year isn’t likely to be much different. But it is possible that a lot of other kids will be doing Halloween in a similar way, finding a secluded, dark place to commune with the night and the thrill of touching normally forbidden things.

The kids do love to run through the night hooping at each sight of a flicker of candlelight through the trees to find sweet treasures and enjoy the thrill of nighttime escapades. And this activity can be easily done with just one or two children and a willing adult accomplice. Teenagers can participate as well (either in the set up or the enjoyment of the hunt) and older kids can can experience greater challenges in natural environments. It’s a versatile activity that taps into our primal need for challenge, adventure and a relatively safe perception of touching the forbidden.

The spirit part

It has been a struggle to involve my kids in spirituality due to their special needs, but we have always carved pumpkins for Samhain, and while it may not be the ancient meaning of candles in vegetables, I envision these as a welcome to friendly ancestor spirits and simultaneously a ward against unfriendly or malicious entities.

I set up an ancestor altar where the kids can see pictures of our ancestors and their symbols. This always sparks several conversations about ancestors over the course of the season. This year will be particularly interesting on this count, since my children both did Ancestry.com DNA tests.

Being adopted from uncooperative Eastern European orphanages, their ancestors have been mostly a mystery. But now we have some actual information to go on, information that paints a picture of a long journey across multiple cultures spanning several centuries. This is what history told us about the Romani people, but now we can see it laid out in clear science and that will add more detail to our celebration.

We will likely watch videos from the various cultures our ancestors come from this year. We might make collages using old National Geographics and printouts from websites.

Occasionally, we have managed to get together with one Pagan family that lives a few hours from us, usually not on the actual day of Samhain but at some point during the season. One of our favorite traditions to do together is to make natural candles by pouring hot beeswax into walnut shells with a tiny bit of cotton wick sticking out. Then at night we take these to a nearby pond, light them for our ancestors and float them out on the water. It is a magical sight and while it is more spiritual than sugar-coated, the kids go along with it reasonably well. This year, we may have to do this activity with just our family.

I do miss being able to have an adult Samhain ritual with like-minded people after the kids go to bed. The few years I’ve been able to do it were wonderful. But this year, I’ll almost certainly be doing it solitary. Other than paying respects to all the various ancestors of our family, of the place we live and of my craft, I always do a house cleansing with herb smoke and renew wards with sea salt and rosemary sprigs on the window sills.

I doubt any of this is going to make you like the time of Covid. But both fun and spiritual fulfillment are possible to find even during quarantine or social distancing.

Blessings to you and your ancestors in this season of going within. Let us hope to emerge fully free after the darkness is past.