Halloween: The Year the Great Pumpkin Almost Blew It
My daughter Geneva is now 15, but back when she was a peanut-allergic kid in her prime trick-or-treat years, Halloween presented a tricky challenge.
How were we to wrestle her hard-earned nutty goodies away without a pitched battle? Somehow, our heartfelt “it’s for your own good” speech was always lost on her, and tears would make little paths through her face makeup.
We needed a plan. And so, the Great Pumpkin came to the rescue. It was a fine tale I concocted, an allergic cross between the famous Charles Schulz pumpkin patch tale and the Easter Bunny.
In my version, a large, orange benefactor visits children with nut and peanut allergies each Halloween. On Halloween night, Mom and Dad would leave all the nut-tainted candy in a bag in the front hall, and the Great Pumpkin, pleased with this sacrifice, would leave a gift in its place.
A tradition was born, and it was a good thing, as Geneva and her younger sister Paris didn’t eat their own weight in candy. Instead, they would receive a puzzle or a movie.
The Great Pumpkin, of course, grew fat at her desk at the office, which wasn’t so good, but let’s move along, shall we, to the year of the orange one’s near miss ….
***
It was the Halloween of 2003, a brutally cold, wind-howling prairie evening in Saskatoon, with temperatures plunging to -25 degrees C (-13 degrees F).
Geneva was dressed as a punk rocker with fuzzy purple earmuffs to match her purple hair (it was just too cold to be cool), and Paris was dressed up as a leopard (basically a spotted snowsuit). My husband Bruce was dashing as a green-skinned demon with red horns.
I stayed home to dole out treats, while the kids and my husband headed out, returning after just 45 minutes with an astonishingly large bag of goodies.
We read all the labels, culled the offending candies and at the end, hung a hefty sack inside on the front doorknob for the Great Pumpkin. The kids trundled off to bed. And so did we.
In the morning, Geneva came bounding into our room in tears. “Mom, the Great Pumpkin didn’t come last night!”
Ack! I knew I had forgotten something when I turned off the lights the night before. Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I tried to think quickly.
“Oh, dear. That’s my fault, sweetie, I locked the door last night and … he couldn’t get in. I usually leave the door open on Halloween so he can come inside.”
Geneva looked crestfallen. By now her sister had also shuffled into our room. Geneva relayed the bad news. Paris’s face fell.
“You know, I bet he left your present with our pumpkins on the front step,” I said. “Why don’t you girls go get dressed in some warm clothes and we’ll go outside and look.”
The kids dashed to their rooms. “Wear lots and lots of clothes!” I yelled.
I elbowed Bruce in the ribs. “Quick. We don’t have much time!”
CareerComposers
Thank you for such a wonderful idea! This is going to become our new Hallowe’en tradition.
Sarah388
As someone who has grown up with several allergies Halloween was often a dreaded time for me. I often sat by as my parents searched through my goodies for anything that contained milk, wheat, egg, corn etc. This often meant that I was left with the pop as long as it was light coloured pop, chips and apples while my sister, who doesn’t have any allergies, was able to eat whatever she wanted. My parents used the you don’t want to get sick do you routine when I got upset. As I got older it was easier because my parents would buy my halloween treats and whatever I gathered that night would be given out to other kids. Today, I am able to eat those foods but have to limit the milk products but I am not allergic to nuts. I can’t imagine if nuts had been in my list at that time I wouldn’t have been able to eat any of the treats. When Halloween comes around I often buy chips and choc bars that have the nut free symbol knowing that I would have appreciated that as a child.
I have to say that your idea is brilliant. I am definitely going to keep that in mind for when I have kids since chances are they will probably have some allergy.