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All Saints day, Pooky, Puca (A Mischievous spirit) Hallows Eve, All Souls Eve, All Hallows Even, are all given names for Halloween (Haela'win) an ancient pagan festival held usually on the 31st October. It began in Ireland in the 18th Century, the Celts, Britain, France were the instigators, a harvest festival in Fall (Autumn) where masks were worn to scare of evil spirits so the crops wouldn't be hindered, they called it 'Samhain' and in Welsh 'Clan Gaea . In the 19th century immigrants bought different versions of the traditions to North America and today in most Western countries to some degree in some form'' Halloween' has been integrated into the culture, in America it was the pop culture. All Saints Day or Eve was a holiday a day of religious festivities held in Northern Europe with different pagan traditions, however, it was later adapted by missionaries who put a Christian slant on it. In European circles it was considered to be a time when the spiritual world made contact with the physical world and where magic was at its most strongest. Today its celebrated by people wearing grotesque masks, costumes, where bonfires, fireworks happen, and 'Trick or Treating', where children dress up and go door to door wanting sweets,money,nuts, even at one time salt, was put on children's hair to guard of evil spirits, also sometimes in earlier years like in Ireland songs were sung. In homes in Ireland and to some degree America they are decorated with pumpkins, turnips, which had been fashioned into frightening faces, games are played as well at the festival. The game 'Bobbing of Apples' where adults children with their hands tied behind their backs, and a bucket filled with water, with their mouth obtained apples then commenced to peel them in the belief if the peel formed a letter it was the initial of the persons' true love, this was played in Britain. It has become popular and is increasing in popularity Halloween with countries like New Zealand, where in the past it has been a non event now held on Guy Fawkes night on November 5th and it goes under the name 'Mischief Night' or 'Danger Night.' Here are three peoples opinions and feelings on Halloween firstly, Ken aged 56 lives in Little Rock in the U.S.A. When asked about Halloween his reply was strong, “ I HATE it.” He continued on to say “ I don't recognize it on the calender at all.” I asked ken, “What does Halloween mean to him,?” ' To me it means people are more interested in the dark side of life.” When asked if churches in the U.S.A agree with this event his comment was, “” They try to compromise and turn it into a fall harvest party. It is a very profitable business like the business of Christmas which was once an Holy day which now is simply another day to celebrate. Next Candace Virginia retired in upstate NY aged 56 had this to say, ' I have always celebrated it, been in my family forever, as far back as I can remember, though I don't know if my father did.” I asked her, What did it mean to her as a child?” “ Dressing up, candy, scaring your friends, parties and going to church for hot cocoa and dough nuts.” Her perspective on Halloween was its for, “ The little ones” Ginny went on to say she felt that it was spoil today. I asked her what made her think this way her reply was, “ By adding the devil stuff with it, its for fun. We use to in our teens fool around by doing things like soaping up windows., no one got hurt. We would go out for lunch, then go out for the goodies.” What did schools think about Halloween there? “ In grade school they had parties and a walk around to show off what the kid's were dressed up as.” I asked her how she felt about Halloween becoming commercial her response was, “ It makes me mad” Thirdly in Waimate In Waimate in the South Island of new Zealand a small rural town with a population of 3,500 the Ministers Fraternal of the town have felt concerned about the increased popularity of Halloween about five years ago a couple called Jennifer and Roger Donaldson came up with an alternative answer to Halloween they started a party called, ' Life, Hope and Happiness ' The group started in their home and to their immense surprise 70 children turned out, then it grew to where after two years time it went to the local Salvation Army hall and where it now being held at the Stadium the large local community venue. The children are encouraged to dress up,however,the stipulation being is they're not to wear Halloween costumes The group is predominately funded by two main churches in the town; it is very much a community minded event with the Fire Brigade, Ambulance, Police involved by the offering of their vehicles for fun rides and their presence at the event. The chairperson of the Ministers Fraternal Pastor Selwyn Long recognizes people are allowed their own beliefs and rightly so, he sees this event as providing another healthy, positive alternative thus giving more choice which is only beneficial to all. Whether one thinks that Halloween is harmless fun or occultism it still is controversial and is still alive and well, and flourishing as a business in the western world hence it raises the question, 'Do we know the foundation on which we as people are building our fun on? “ Like the old Sunday school song, 'The foolish man bought his house upon the sand and when the rains and the floods came it disappeared.' is Halloween disguised as an attractive package and inside simply sand ? “ Foundations are important they hold us house up and make it last for life, so our belief systems are like foundations it begs perhaps the essential question, 'Where will this belief take us as individuals, as a society? “ It is something to think about anyway. AH! i HEAR Ginny's sigh! It use to be fun it should be fun.

YET THEY SAY WE WON THE WAR. Sadly in a world where there is colossal sadness, loss, pain, death, it can overwhelm. In a supposedly enlightened civilization we are still fighting wars; it is true to say we do not learn from history for if we did war would cease. At the beginning when they were deciding whether to go to war against Iraq it not only caused leaders of nations to think it caused individuals like myself to think about going to war, and what we thought of war, and why if we believed in it we did or if we didn’t believe why we didn’t huge questions were being asked of every mature person. None of these questions are new however for each generation has asked them myself included. As I looked at the issue I found it not to be simple in fact I discovered it was complex, and one could see truth for both sides of the argument. YET THEY SAY WE WON THE WAR. Women in anguish. Agony…grief…. Weep tears that a lifetime will never Close the festering wound. Hatred bile for war rooted deep within…. Scorn. despising them who gave the decision to send. Men die… Children live without fathers, Mother’s sleep alone in empty beds, Father’s of son’s comfort their mothers, Weep their own grief like clinging wrap Around food for protection. Mother’s of son’s loose a part Of themselves..Grow old. Sisters have No brother’s… Friend are parted….aunties…uncle’s limp.. Amputee’s… Yet they say we WON the war. Much talk is given today about love, caring for the hungry, looking after environment, how fantastic was Mother Theresa and that she was, nevertheless in all of those wonderful things I see a lack which leaves a gigantic crack in the many voices peddling their philosophies, we are still unable to love our neighbours as ourselves. The question, ‘Is it right to kill another human?” Seems simple the logical, right answer is No. The next question to be answered is, ‘Do we defend ourselves from an enemy? “Again the answer appears to be simply yes we do. The following question then arises, “Do we fight for truth, justice? Of course we do is the immediate response. We are then faced in our thinking process with the next perhaps the more harder, huge questions of, “Do we get involved with someone else’s fight?’ Do we truly understand what the fight is about? The latter question is the essential question to be answered. I recently in my reflections on this subject wrote the following poem titled,

John hated he was listening as well as hearing, he’d begun to notice things about the intruder, small details, like the color of her hair the dress she wore. It enraged they penetrated the dark world he had lived in, ever since his wonderful Jeanie had gone. Jeanie OH! Jeanie! A weight of sorrow, pain, engulfed his being, every thought, memory that came of Jeanie, compounded his pain, loss, the emptiness, loneliness, causing him to die gradually and he was disappearing. To live was wrong, torture, living was futile and there was absolutely no joy without Jeanie his love. Talk! Man! She was a motor mouth, the first two or three conversations they had were draining and he retreated into himself like a turtle hiding under his shell, never responding to anything she said, do you think that stopped her? NO! Consequently gigantic silences occurred. In his inner eye he saw, felt, her squirming, wriggling, nerves jiggling, jerking, inside and outside, the silences were agonizing. The woman couldn’t handle the silences so she just kept yakking filling the holes of silent, silence. In fact after the initial meeting he had thought he would never see her again however he hadn’t banked on her determination, curiosity, the stubbornness, eleven weeks later here she was still, it was unbelievable!. The difference now was it seemed not to matter if he was included in the conversation or not. He could hear the woman sit next to him on the park bench, she was incredibly insensitive, obnoxious, and most people would have sensed they were being intrusive not wanted and would have taken the hint. The first time she sat by him he felt trapped, he couldn’t breath. The Woman’ as he called her inside his mind, thanked him with a gift for helping her, whilst out jogging the week previous she fell, sprained her ankle, it was too much, although altogether she seemed too much. It was blatant that she wanted to talk, see, and get to know him. People would try to comfort him especially after her disappearance with trite words like, “Time heals’ or “Life goes on’ fools they were, nothing helps, his life ended when she went it was simple as that. At first people came round lots, bringing flowers, food, sitting patiently in silence, though, when they came to the realization he wasn’t going to snap out of his melancholy like a snap of someone’s fingers as well as the shock understanding that he was tuning them out along with discovery they weren’t going to receive warm fuzzies, platitudes, for their kind, compassionate acts, they stopped calling in slowly, surely. This was a nasty bite to their ego’s it pleased, comforted, for they were so darn patronizing, plus it had the a bonus it left him in solitude, peace, they way he desired, wanted it. It was six years now, at the start after an acceptable time he went back to work, either sleeping sometimes or he slept into oblivion which was fantastic when this happened, kind of like being on drugs he imagined, for a brief time he felt nothing, people said this was natures natural healing remedy, well! Whatever it was, he loved the opium sleep, the oblivion it bought. He read, gardened, took a daily stroll to the park across the road from his house to feed the ducks where he sat upon a particular bench that he liked, soaked in the sun, fresh air and for a moment forgot, and felt normal. Gazing incredulously at the bundle displayed wildly on the ground her short skirt scrunched high up her long thigh, the white colour of the thigh sharp on his eyes, the blond, wavy, white shoulder length hair covered her face, eyes, silky strands lay across the generous mouth, and vast sky blue eyes wide open with a stunned glaze with water rising in them, face taunt with pain, lying still like a stone. This was John’s introduction to ‘The Woman” It all had been surreal, firstly her leaning on him as she hobbled across the park over the newly tar sealed road to his house, the second thing having ‘The Woman’ sitting in his lounge on his sofa, revolted him he had to get rid of her. John thought, Jeanie would be hurt, shocked, and angry if she knew another woman was in their house alone with him. Jeanie was a jealous type of woman who didn’t believe in the theory a man could be friends with a woman that was an impossibility to her way of thinking, sheer absurdity, a copout, for people to have flings, flirtations with other partners, women. The beginning meetings with her sitting with him on the bench were hell, took all his might to leave the house to go for his constitutional and to feed the ducks whom he had developed affection, until the need to get out of the house was stronger, greater, than the desire not to see her. What dribble poured forth from the painted crimson lips, she stunned, shocked, at the complete utter self centredness of ‘The Woman’, his Jeanie would have pegged her straight away as a shallow individual. All the talk about the ‘Stars’ horoscopes she read in magazines, newspaper, pure dribble, prattling on about movies she had seen, ‘How thought provoking they were, how great some actors were or weren’t.’ Didn’t she know some people had real pain in their lives real things happening she had No idea of the real issues of life. About the fourth time they met the conversation topic was on women in the business world, going on about how it was harder for a woman than a man to advance into top positions that it was still a mans world. John heard Jeanie’s voice in his head saying, “Stop trying to be a man being a woman” She was right, Jeanie was wise she knew men and women were different and this woman was meant to be intelligent. When she was talking he didn’t really listen he tuned her out and he thought about Jeanie the way she made him laugh, her beautiful red hair down to her waist, sitting at the duchess brushing it in her nightie, she still made him want her, he remembered her kindness to him when he was impatient or unkind after a stressful day at work she understood and eased his pain. Heck! He didn’t care if the woman was the office cleaner, president of a company, his dearest Jeanie had been a full time wife, mother, for twenty three years and was the wisest, cleverest, bravest, strongest, talented, sexiest woman he had ever met or known. The last two weeks the blabbering of ‘The Woman’ had become disturbing, disruptive the conversation matter changing somehow to a deeper level it took him aback, for out the blue she began talking honestly on issues of weight, he found himself being ushered into another’s world beside his own, it was ages since this had happened. The woman’s vulnerability was frightening, she shared about the loneliness she was experiencing lately, the dissatisfaction she felt in regards to her work that it felt futile it was all confusing as well as alarming, for if all that she had strived, thought, mattered didn’t, well!, what had her life been really about? A chasing after dust and this left a gigantic question, ‘Who was she?” As the woman opened her heart, mind, he found himself engaging in conversation with her freely, he shared how his work was second to his relationship with Jeanie, how his lovely Jeanie was his life and his beautiful children gave meaning, purpose to his life. He told stories of each child’s birth, how the first time he heard Jeanie was pregnant the Euphoria he experienced upon hearing the news, the fear also at the responsibility and if he lost her and the child to be. John told her about the first time he met her, tears sparkled in his eyes as he spoke, how he first saw her at school aged eight, her long hair down to her waits, about her laugh he could hear like bells chiming and he remembered her words to him, “Hello will you be my friend? “He fell instantly in love as he was a shy boy and this beautiful girl wanted him, John, to be her friend, they were friends right till her passing. While John was speaking Lacey found her heart being touched in a way she never thought, imagined, here before her eyes was a love match made in heaven as the saying went, she’d heard of people finding love like this but until now had never seen it. At times as he shared about him knowing Jeanie was the only woman for him, it hurt her hearing it, cut her heart, for not once in all the men she had dated, been with, had she felt an ounce of love like this, it left her feeling bereft. Lacey leaned forward intently giving him her full attention, her tongue ran over her lips and she smiled a flirtatious smile letting him know she was interested in him. When parts of what he shared with her filled her with compassion she squeezed his softly, to let him know she cared, empathized, for what he had gone through. The man was thick, any other man would have asked her out on a date, flirted back with her but not this man he was immune to her overtures her physical charms, making her frustrated, confused and angry. For she found herself wanting this man more and more he was everything a woman wanted in a man, a man who would love a woman forever, treat her like a queen, love your kids, be loyal, faithful, was extremely successful yet he was like the moon out of her reach. Over the weeks after meeting with him she left him thinking about him especially these last couple of meetings it made her look at herself, her life, it left her hungry, aching, for someone to love her like this, wanting to be cherished as his darn! Jeanie, she resented this woman intensely she showed her what love was like whilst making it unattainable at the same time. Much as he loathed the chatter of this woman before he could block it out, now though he found himself thinking about what she said even come to the stage where at night he was thinking, wondering about her life. It was wrong, frightening, he was losing control over his life, and the world he lived in for the last several years was sneakily being invaded by this woman. The frozen ice block himself, was being defrosted, rays of light were entering his inner chamber, if this continued he would be in the light in the world. Thus in turn because of her unexpected intimacy it stunned him out of his fantasy world, it was fearsome, harsh, he closed, locked down the windows, pulled the curtains across his mind, turned the key on the door of his heart to ‘The Woman’, We all make choices readers in the journey of life, what would your choice have been? I wonder.

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Nickels and dimes love, Is the dream kind of stuff? Fluffy, warm, magical moments, When life is tender, sweet, Nothings a barrier, everything's possible, When you dine on loves' nickels and dimes. You can live in a tin shed with no chairs, no tables, no bed, When you have fresh air its nickels and dime love. Time goes bye you realise that nickels and dimes love, wont be enough. When the fire of your passion is spent, No money to pay the rent, Ten kids all hungry, crying, Once young, pretty, now old and unkempt. Where once life was moonlight, stars, kisses romance, Now at night you lie next to a man, defeated, unshaven, Nickels and dimes love treat. Nickels and dimes love promises much, However without loves practical, sacrificing touch, The growing, evolving personal touch, It's simply love playing with Nickels and dimes.

Blotchy, purpled, gray, black, yellow, Colours of the rainbow? No!... The rainbow shines, Glory of colours displayed.. visible, Miraculously held in the sky. Rainbow promise never to drown all living on earth ever again. We are awed, thawed at its splendor, It disappears then forgotten. Hidden, sore, Naked to the eye, Ugly, cruel, abstract bruises, Tender to the touch, Ugly to view, Rememberd... OH!.. Never forgotten. The worst bruiser we remember, Invisbleness remembered. Rainbow seen..forgotten. Complex, strange, yet bruises remain, Hidden, they remember the pain. Lest we forget, A signpost....bruises... to mark the spot of festering wounds, That never fade... Unlike the rainbow, forgotten though will reappear in the sky, miracously to be awed, thawed, enjoyed. A rainbow..seen, forgotten unseen remembered.