Monday, October 30, 2017


“Where’s them candy sticks? Timmy, you better not of got you some of my candy sticks without me approvin' cause them Halloween beggars will be here tomorrow night wantin' a treat."

      Last year, they turned over my favorite flower pot and took three jars of pickles from my back porch cause I didn't have no treat to give.  Three Halloweens ago, them tricksters painted all sorts of red and black stripes on Lucy, my best friend Molly's pig. Them tricksters is serious about this silliness. And I know for a fact from preacher Massey's cousin's wife, who lives next door to that Scottish Grant clan covered with the devil's spots, that them heathen Scottish people brung this nonsense to this Christian nation. They called it guising on account of them being disguised, and it's just a pretty darn shame they couldn't leave that blessed beggin' custom over there with their own heathen kinfolk.

"Timmy, walk down to Molly's farm and fetch mama six eggs, will ya?"

     I'll bake a cake for them beggars even though I'm mighty tired from this here sicknes the good Lord is takin' his sweet time in healin' me from. 

     I could tell you a few things about beggar’s night you wouldn't believe like two years ago what commenced at Doc Robinson's place. When he was out deliverin' Helen's twins on Halloween night, some tricksters set fire to his office.  Lord help us for your people have done gone mad and headed straight to the devil.  Smashing pumpkins, turning over wagons, and rearranging the scarecrows is right annoyin', yes, and not real Christian-like, but settin' fire to the good doctor's business is taking things a bit too far. 
      It ain't right to gossip, but I'm goin' to tell you all about Molly and then of course what I done for her, bless her heart, when them beggars painted Lucy. This was back when I was kinda healthy and could walk two miles, so me and Timmy walked all the way to her farm with the good book, cause Lord knows Molly and Chester don't got one.  While Timmy was washing Lucy, I give Molly a lesson on doin' proper things for the good Lord if she wanted a bundle of easier life.  And by a bundle of easier, I mean Chester comin' home sober every night.  The verses I used come straight from the book the good Lord used, the King James, the English King James, naturally.

     It tickles me to death to tell y'all that due to my good deed, Molly comes to church every Sunday, although I wished she'd dress a little more godly. And Chester has quit his drinkin' and carousin' all but Saturday night.  I told Molly to make sure that sorry ole Chester picks up some sweets for them silly tricksters every year cause Lord knows these tired legs can't walk no two miles no more on of account of Franklin, my husband who isn't the president even though our house is white but pitiful small and he ain't nearly as smart, done gone and sold our car and won't tell me why.
       He had to ride a train home after he drove up to Chicago and sold it. I didn't kick him out on account of me being a Christian woman.

Back to my special sickess which is more important than Molly and her no-count husband.  I don't know what I done to deserve this.  The only thing I can consider is that I ain't always real sweet to Franklin.  But, he ain't always real lovin' and sweet to me neither.  "An eye for an eye," and if he expects a treat of a sweet, lovin' wife, he best be a bit nicer husband. I'm guessin' that's why the good Lord give me this here sickness.  I been remindin' him of all my good deeds and been doin' more and more of them good deeds, too.

     I bet my house, don't tell Franklin, that the good Lord will heal me real soon on account of how I been gettin' His attention with my prayin'. If the good Lord wants me to keep on servin' him and doin' all those good deeds like takin' soup to Mr. Owen after he went and catched a cold from fishin' and giving the widow Lewis grocery money cause her no count son won't, he'll heal me from my sickness. 

    I'll be a prayin' that til he hurries up and heals me.  If he don't heal his good servant Mae, let's see who he gets to cook Sunday dinner for preacher Massey and those eight misbehaving youngins and his sickly wife. What a treat my healin' will be for all the good folks in town I help. I know the good Lord wants treats from me, and he sure knows what kindly tricks I'm pretty darn capable of doin’.

I've Trick or Treated with God and prayed like Mae, with better grammar, of course. If he'll answer with a "yes," I'll serve and pray more.  If he doesn't give me my desires, I may decide to disobey or threaten to stop serving or believing.  I've asked God to prove his love by making something good happen. I like treats and admit I've expected a few from God.

"And it is impossible to please God without faith. Anyone who wants to come to him must believe that God exists and that he rewards those who sincerely seek him." Hebrews 11:6

God rewards us when we sincerely seek him, then mysteriously, treats are no longer a concern. Our prayers are no longer "if you don't give me...." or "if you give me....." No more bargaining.  Even when we feel more tricked than treated with rewards by the world, we have peace. We don't need to Trick or Treat with God.  God’s reward, an abundant life, is a treat the world cannot give. Of course, an occasional Snicker's bar doesn’t hurt.

Hope & Luke, Grace Pratt and 
Daddy Luke

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