Isn't that the Point?

One of the reasons I love the holiday season is because it is a synopsis of the human process.  Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas come with the respective reminders of greed, gratitude, and giving.  In three short months we learn valuable lessons in getting all you can, being happy with what you got, and gifting to those who don't got what you got.

Halloween is a time we can pretend we aren't who we are.  We get to reward all the nights we've envied others' lifestyles and wished we were them. We can pretend to be the superhero, ballerina, political figure, or crazy scientist we've always dreamt we were, but never became. We can gluttonously collect candy and throw big parties so lots of people can pretend they're something they're not together.  November follows and always spurs conversations of "what are you thankful for?" December becomes a time to make lists of what could possibly make someone else smile when wrapping paper is ripped away and your gift is revealed. 

I'm just that kind of person: the kind that gets involved with the holiday spirit to the same extent Sarah Palin gets involved with the Tea Party or Budweiser gets involved with the Super Bowl. I start counting down for Christmas in September.  I plan my Halloween costumes a month or year in advance.  My brothers and sister, also holiday enthusiasts, abide by a lofty moral code of conduct when it comes to trick-or-treating.  There are a lot of people who will tell you that my devout support of Halloween means I like to worship the dead or speak with spirits.  But that's not it.  I love Halloween because instead of being judged by how thin or beautiful you are, you are judged by ingenuity and wit.  We compliment people who have innovative costumes, who are dressed as a pun or cliche.  I'm one to believe that when you create something, you come closer to God.  Creating a costume - either by sewing, assembling, or accessorizing - is a form of God's powers of creation.

Aaaaaaand Halloween is the one day every year you can dress up with your underwear on the outside, knock on a door, demand candy, and actually end up with a booty load of candy instead of  a ride in a police car. 

 Last year was the first Halloween of my life I didn't go trick-or-treating. 

 I was 22.

This year my dad had a brilliant idea.  Beyond brilliant, some would say.  I had just gotten home from a Friday night costume party.  I had removed my wig and sat down to unload all the stories about the day. With my face still pained with a classic clown smile and blue eyebrows, my father started showing me the elements to his costume. "Here's my mohawk.  I bought a soul-patch to go with my blag mohawk. I'm going to roll a pack of cigarettes up my sleeve...And I think we should go treat-or-tricking. It's the opposite of trick-or-treating.  You give candy instead of collecting candy."

What a novel idea.  Giving.  Giving in a season of greed and gluttony. I am a little ashamed we hadn't thought of this before. 

We dressed up on Halloween night: a recent college graduate as a clown and her over-the-hill-plus-a-decade daddy as a biker.  We took a bag of candy, and handed out chocolate bars at houses instead of collecting.

We made so many people smile, especially the parents without costume who dutifully chug along house to house to supervise adorable princesses and vampires for the holiday spirit.  Those parents don't make so much in candy revenue. I'm glad we were able to spread some of the Halloween cheer.

Isn't my dad cool?

So this Halloween was about giving. 

We once had one of the Ashtons come speak to one of my nonprofit organization classes in college. The Ashtons are a filthy rich and well-known family and happen to be unashamedly generous with their money.  Their name is on many a bench and building in the state of Utah. Each year they give grant after to grant to nonprofit organizations. They are most known for Thanksgiving Point, which is a puge entertainment, education, and recreation zone. (puge = pretty +  huge)  This place has magnificent gardens, invites schools to visit their farm country, keeps their dinosaur museum well maintained, shows current films at the theater, and teaches classes on baking and glass art.

The speaker mentioned that most people think the name "Thanksgiving Point" is because it is located at the point of the mount (a consistent landmark in approximating distances for anyone who travels between Utah and Salt Lake counties) and speculate that the Ashtons love the Thanksgiving holiday. 

"So...isn't that why you named it Thanksgiving Point?"  a classmate asked, confused at what else could possibly be an explanation for such a name.

 "No," the speaker responded, "It's because we show our thanks by giving.  And that's the point."

It is now officially the month of November: the month of Thanksgiving.  To celebrate Thanksgiving throughout the month, I'm aiming to get into the Christmas spirit and show my thanks by giving.

Isn't that the point?