Trick or Treating Where?

Part way through my grade three year, we moved to the last house on a quiet street, nestled up against a pine forest. In the way that we never have the chance to choose our relatives, this was a time in my life where I didn't choose my friends as much as they were thrust upon me by proximity. There were simply a gaggle of kids living on our street and we learned to get along. After dinner, our band of misfits would play a variety of games - kick the can being a favourite. Despite the wealth of hiding spots our forest gave us, we never played there. Not kick the can. Not at night. No one told us we couldn't and it wasn't a scary forest during the day, but a night it was a little too dark and too creepy for us.
It was a deep rectangular forest and hidden away at the very back was an old mansion. We believed stories we'd heard about old Mrs. Cressman who lived in the mansion. She had Dobermans that she would let run wild at night and anyone daring to venture too far into the woods would be attacked. On the best of nights, it kept us out of the forest. But on Halloween, when ghosts stories were whispering in our minds, we were truly afraid.
There is a vague unwritten window for trick or treating and mostly we start younger than we remember. How old we are when we stop going out for the evening asking for candy from our neighbours is really up to our genes. Being very tall at a young age only shortened my trick or treating career. It was near the end of my window when I was finally brave enough to walk all the way through the forest in the dark to the old Cressman mansion. It was shrouded in trees and vines so much that it seemed to grow out of the ground itself. I remember knocking on the door for the first time, proud of myself for having come that far. The wide door swung open slowly to reveal a small grey haired women hunching over a big metal bowl. It was a bowl filled with the holy grail of Halloween - full sized chocolate bars. Not some miniaturized version of a Mars bar or a Smarties box with four Smarties inside. No, full sized real chocolate bars. A true prize for only the bravest.
I was at a mall today when I thought of that woman. I remembered too, when I was younger, going into someone's garage where we were blindfolded and we given things to touch. Eyeballs and brains. Actually peeled grapes and overcooked pasta. We screamed. Then touched them again.
I'd like to think that people still do that sort of thing, but I doubt it. Today, as I left the mall around four o'clock, hundreds of children in costume poured into the mall. They went from store to store trick or treating under fluorescent lights. (No Batgirl costumes ruined by snowsuits - that's for sure) It was depressing. What sort of message was woven through that event? Well, I was afraid that maybe no one let their kids go out trick or treating through their neighbourhood anymore. We live in a small apartment building and so we never get kids at our door, but I wondered if this is where they had gone.
I'm glad to say that isn't true in Kitsilano. On the way out this evening, my wife and I drove down a few side streets and there were plenty of kids out, but is that just because there isn't a mall in Kits. I hope not. I hope you had lots of kids trick or treating at your door.
Oh and thanks, Mrs. Cressman, for the full sized real chocolate bar and even more so for the scare.