Chronicles of a Halloween Story Walk

Every Halloween I go crazy. I decorate my yard to the nines with home-made creations that include menacing witches, a skeleton “bone-yard band,” hand-made tombstones, and trick-or-treating aliens. The neighborhood seems to love my decor, as they are original and not too scary. This makes me happy, but what I am most proud of these days is my Halloween Story Walk.

The Halloween Story Walk

The story walk is not original (I got the idea from a library in Stockbridge, MA), nor am I the story author. What I do is to choose one of my favorite Halloween picture books and display it page by page along the side of our corner house. The laminated pages are stapled to thin posts running parallel with the sidewalk. I also set up one or two scenes from the story into a yard display. My husband sets up lighting so the story can be read day or night.

It brings me great joy to witness children and adults reading the story or lingering over my displays. The first year I set it up, I witnessed a father and tween-daughter walking the story together; they took turns reading each page out loud. “What a great relationship they have!” I thought. And on Halloween night that year, I asked a little boy if he’d read the story. He turned back to me with a big smile and said, “My mommy read it to me!” My heart melted.

A Sense of Community

The story walk and my yard decorations also bring a sense of community. For instance, there were the young parents who said that my house made them realize they need to decorate more, not to keep up, but to fill the gap caused by the loss of a couple of neighboring Halloween houses. These homes had decor that went beyond fun–they were experiences.

Then there’s the individual interactions, where I get to know people a little bit more. One lady took a photo of my old-lady-playing-the-piano and told me how she was going to send it to her son. He’s a computer science student at Stanford but also plays the piano. That prompted a conversation between us about studying classical piano, and the time her family were thrilled by a surprise appearance at a small concert by pianist Lang Lang.

And there was the elderly man visiting from India who wanted to know the meaning of my story. I summarized it, including descriptions of the dog (“woof woof”). Because he spoke broken English, I was concerned he wouldn’t understand me, but he laughed in all the right places. Then he told me a bit about Diwali (Hindu festival of lights) and how it has been celebrated for over 10,000 years. He asked me my name and I told him, then I asked him for his. He shook his head and said I wouldn’t be able to pronounce it. He never gave it to me, but we both got a good laugh.

Different Strokes for Different Folks

Another time, I observed a family of three looking at my witches and skeletons. Their little girl was afraid that the witch on my lawn was real. Her father (Eastern European?) told her that the frog skeleton on the witch’s cauldron was a kid who touched the witch to see if it was real. He then dared his daughter to touch the witch. “If you believe it’s real, then it is.” The little girl wanted to leave, but also to stay, so finally the mother touched the witch to show her daughter that she wouldn’t turn into a frog. Then the daughter got brave and touched the witch too. She left happy, and I suspect, proud of herself. How different that parenting style is from our Western coddling!

The Halloween Spirit

Our neighborhood has great Halloween spirit–lots of fun decorations that are not too scary. Last year we got around 500 children and handed out candy non-stop. It was so much fun. I’m looking forward to it again this year, but I also love the build up: watching people read my story walk and react to my displays. There’s just one more thing I’d like: questions about my tombstone epithets. Can you guess what they are?

Wishing you all a joyful October 31. May the Halloween Spirit be upon you!