Kevin eagerly helped his mom with his Halloween costume and assisted his dad in decorating their home, excited for the candy haul on Halloween night. However, one house on his street stood out—completely undecorated. Confused, Kevin wondered why anyone would skip the fun, concluding that the homeowner must need help.
As Halloween approached, the neighborhood buzzed with excitement. Every house competed for the title of “spookiest yard,” with jack-o’-lanterns grinning on porches, skeletons hanging from trees, and cobwebs adorning doorways. The crisp air carried the scent of dry leaves and candy, and eleven-year-old Kevin soaked it all in, his heart racing with anticipation.
Halloween was his favorite day—a time to transform into anyone and watch the world become magical.
While strolling down the street, Kevin admired the glowing decorations and spooky scenes set up in every yard. Witches cackled, doors creaked, and the sounds of Halloween filled the air. But one house stood out—not for its frightful charm, but for its utter darkness. There were no pumpkins or cobwebs—only silence. It belonged to Mrs. Kimbly.
Mrs. Kimbly was the quiet, older woman who lived alone. Kevin had mowed her lawn in the summer and shoveled her driveway in the winter, but she rarely said more than a few words when he received his payment. Now, her undecorated house seemed out of place amidst the festive atmosphere.
Why hadn’t Mrs. Kimbly decorated for Halloween? Kevin couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. Halloween was meant to be fun, and he felt that no one—especially someone living alone—should miss out.
Determined to help, Kevin crossed the street to her house, crunching leaves under his sneakers. He hesitated for a moment before knocking. After a long pause, the door creaked open, revealing a stern-faced Mrs. Kimbly, her eyes narrowed behind thick glasses.
“What do you want, Kevin?” she asked, her voice gruff.
Kevin swallowed hard. “Hi, Mrs. Kimbly. I noticed your house isn’t decorated for Halloween, and I thought maybe you forgot. I could help if you’d like.”
Her expression hardened. “I didn’t forget,” she snapped. “I don’t need decorations, and I don’t need your help. Now, go away.” She began to close the door.
Kevin’s heart sank, but he wasn’t ready to give up. “I could do it for free!” he blurted. “You wouldn’t have to do anything.”
Mrs. Kimbly scowled and slammed the door. Stunned, Kevin stood there. How could anyone dislike Halloween so much? He knew her house would likely become a target for pranks if it remained undecorated, and he didn’t want that to happen.
As Kevin walked home, a new idea began to form. He wasn’t ready to give up on Mrs. Kimbly yet.
At home, he found his mom stirring soup in the kitchen. “Mom, something strange happened,” he said, sitting down at the table. He explained about Mrs. Kimbly’s dark house and how she had slammed the door in his face.
But when he mentioned Mrs. Kimbly’s name, his mom’s expression softened. “Maybe you should leave her alone,” she suggested gently. “People often have reasons for their actions that we don’t understand.”
Kevin frowned. “But, Mom, I think she’s not mad—I think she’s sad. Halloween is meant to be fun, and I don’t want anyone to feel left out.”
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