Halloween was his favorite day of the year—a day when you could become anyone you wanted, and the world transformed into something magical.
As Kevin wandered down the street, he admired the glowing decorations and spooky scenes set up in each yard. Witches cackled, doors creaked, and the sounds of Halloween filled the air. But one house stood out, not because it was spooky, but because it was completely dark. No pumpkins, no cobwebs—nothing. It was Mrs. Kimbly’s house.
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 much beyond handing him his payment. Now, her undecorated house seemed out of place in the festive neighborhood.
Why hadn’t Mrs. Kimbly decorated for Halloween? Kevin couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right. Halloween was supposed to be fun, and he didn’t think anyone—especially someone living alone—should miss out.
Determined to help, Kevin crossed the street to her house. Leaves crunched under his sneakers as he approached her front door. He hesitated for a moment, then knocked. After a long pause, the door creaked open, revealing Mrs. Kimbly. Her face was stern, her eyes narrowed behind thick glasses.
“What do you want, Kevin?” she asked, her voice gruff.
Kevin swallowed nervously. “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 moved to close the door.
Kevin’s heart sank, but he wasn’t ready to give up. “I could do it for free!” he blurted out. “You wouldn’t have to do anything.”
But Mrs. Kimbly scowled and slammed the door. Kevin stood there, stunned. How could anyone hate Halloween that much? He knew her house would likely become a target for pranks if it stayed undecorated, and he didn’t want that to happen.
As Kevin walked home, an idea began to form. He wasn’t ready to give up on Mrs. Kimbly just yet.
At home, Kevin found his mom stirring a pot of 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 sometimes have reasons for doing things we don’t understand.”
Kevin frowned. “But, Mom, I think she’s not mad—I think she’s sad. Halloween is supposed to be fun, and I don’t want anyone to feel left out.”
His mom smiled softly. “You have a big heart, Kevin. Just remember, some people aren’t ready for help, even if they need it.”
Her words lingered in his mind, but Kevin still felt like Mrs. Kimbly was just lonely. He was determined to make her Halloween special.
The next day, Kevin gathered every decoration he could find—twinkling lights, plastic spiders, and his favorite carved pumpkin. It was special to him, but if it could make Mrs. Kimbly smile, he was willing to part with it.
He loaded everything into a wagon and headed back to her house. Kevin worked quickly, hanging lights and placing pumpkins on her porch. The house was starting to come alive with Halloween spirit. Just as he finished arranging the last pumpkin, the door flew open.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Mrs. Kimbly stormed out, her face red with anger. “I told you not to decorate my house!”
Kevin froze, his heart pounding. “I just wanted to help,” he said softly. “It’s Halloween…”
Before he could say more, Mrs. Kimbly grabbed the nearest pumpkin—the one Kevin had spent hours carving—and smashed it on the ground. It shattered into pieces across the porch.
Kevin blinked back tears as he stared at the ruined pumpkin. He had worked so hard on it, and now it was gone. Without a word, he turned and ran home.
That night, dressed in his vampire costume, Kevin couldn’t enjoy Halloween. As he wandered from house to house with his friends, collecting candy, his thoughts kept returning to Mrs. Kimbly’s dark house. He knew the other kids might target her home for pranks, and he didn’t want that to happen.
Determined to stop any trouble, Kevin made his way back to her house. He sat on her porch, handing out candy from his own bag to passing trick-or-treaters, explaining, “Mrs. Kimbly’s not home.” He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there when the front door opened.
Startled, Kevin looked up to see Mrs. Kimbly standing in the doorway. Her face wasn’t angry anymore. “What are you doing here, Kevin?” she asked softly.
“I didn’t want anyone to mess with your house,” he explained. “I thought maybe I could help.”
Mrs. Kimbly sighed and sat down beside him. “I’m sorry for earlier,” she said quietly. “Halloween is hard for me. I don’t have any family, and seeing everyone else celebrate just makes me feel… alone.”
Kevin’s heart ached. “You don’t have to be alone,” he said. “You can celebrate with us. We’d love to have you join in.”
A small smile crept across Mrs. Kimbly’s face. “You’re a kind boy, Kevin. Thank you for what you did. And I’m sorry about your pumpkin.”
“It’s okay,” Kevin said, smiling back. “I have another one at home. We can carve it together if you want.”
Mrs. Kimbly chuckled softly. As Kevin ran home to grab the pumpkin, Mrs. Kimbly felt something she hadn’t felt in years—the warmth of Halloween spirit, all thanks to a boy who refused to give up.
What do you think of this story? Share it with your friends—it might brighten their day too.
My Friend Kicked Me Out of His Wedding, His Reason Stunned Me
My wife and I were shocked when we were kicked out of my friend’s wedding for ordering pizza after the buffet ran out of food. What began as a lighthearted, slightly tipsy idea quickly turned into a whirlwind of drama that made us question not only our actions but also our friendships.
We had been looking forward to Tom’s wedding for weeks. It was a small, intimate affair with about 70 guests, mostly family, and the atmosphere was joyful. Everyone seemed genuinely happy to be there.
As we admired the decorations and soaked in the celebratory mood, everything seemed perfect. My wife and I exchanged smiles, complimenting the setup and how happy Tom and Linda looked. We were seated at a table with some lovely people and began chatting with a couple named Jane and Bob.
After a beautiful ceremony full of heartfelt vows, the celebration kicked off with drinks flowing at the open bar. Two bottles of wine were placed on each table, along with bread and butter, and the mood was lively. But then came the announcement for the buffet, which was to be served by calling tables up one at a time, starting with the family.
As we watched the first tables head to the buffet, we noticed plates being piled high with food. I quietly mentioned to my wife that I hoped there would be enough for everyone, and we both waited, hoping for the best. However, when our table was finally called, the buffet was nearly empty. We managed to scrape together a few scraps, leaving everyone at our table visibly disappointed. We could sense frustration growing around us.
“That’s it?” Jane asked, staring at her nearly empty plate. Bob, equally unhappy, grumbled about how hungry he still was. My wife and I were equally disheartened, but we tried to keep things lighthearted.
It was then that Bob jokingly suggested ordering pizza. To our surprise, the idea didn’t seem all that far-fetched to us in our hungry state. After a quick chat with the others, we decided to go for it, pooling some money and placing an order for four large pizzas and wings.
When the pizzas arrived, we shared them with those around us who also hadn’t gotten enough to eat. The atmosphere at our table shifted as we laughed about the absurdity of the situation, but that light mood didn’t last long. Before we knew it, Linda’s father approached our table, clearly unhappy.
He sternly asked where the pizza came from, and after explaining that we had ordered it because the buffet ran out of food, he grew even more upset. When he asked for a slice and I refused, citing that we had barely eaten ourselves, his frustration turned into full-blown anger.
Not long after, Tom came over, looking distressed. He apologized but explained that we needed to leave, as the pizza situation had upset Linda and her family. Feeling hurt and frustrated, we gathered our things and left the reception, ending the night on a sour note.
A few days later, Tom called me. He explained that after talking with Linda and her family, they realized there hadn’t been enough food and felt terrible about what had happened. Linda’s father, especially, was eager to make amends and had planned a big “After Wedding Shindig” to invite everyone back, with plenty of food, drinks, and entertainment.
Despite the awkwardness of the original event, it seemed like things were headed in a positive direction, and I found myself looking forward to the follow-up celebration. What had started as a silly solution to our hunger turned into a larger lesson in communication, and, in the end, a chance for everyone to come together again.
Leave a Reply