Halloween

Welcome to our Halloween page! We have a little of everything here for you . . . a little halloween history, halloween links that contain a howling good time, a few halloween treats, "The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe, great graphics, and much more. Enjoy!

HISTORY OF HALLOWEEN

Everything started a very long time ago, that is, 5 centuries B.C., in the place where today lies Great Britain and northern France. At that time, the Celtics lived according to many beliefs and one of them is the beginning of this well know celebration.

The Celtics celebrated New Year on November 1st with a festival that indicated the end of the "Sun Season" and the beginning of the "Dark and Cold Season". Our modern celebration of "Halloween" is a descendent of the ancient Celtic fire festival called Samhain. The word is pronounced "sow-in", with "sow"rhyming with cow. In a very old tale, Samhain was the Lord of Death and Prince of Darkness.

The first meaning of Halloween was to frighten and send away the souls of the dead. It was believed that all the souls of people who died that year would only go to heaven the day before Saint's Day (November 1st).

"All Saint's Day" or "Hallow's Day" are synonyms, thus "Hallow's Eve" is the day before Hallow's Day.

Halloween was brought to the United States of America by the Irish immigrants in 1840.

The word Halloween means holy or sacred. The colors of Halloween are black and orange to suggest ideas of death and harvest.

HISTORY OF THE
"TRICK OR TREAT" CUSTOM
This Custom dates from the very beginning of the celebration. Ever since the V Century, when they believed the souls of the dead people who died the year before November 1st, would stay around until this day to go to heaven. They would offer different food and drink to the souls, so they wouldn't be hungry nor thirsty. many of the people would imitate fairies and go from house to house begging for treats. Failure to supply the treats would usually result in practical jokes being visited on the owner of the house. The folks who were abroad in the night imitating the fairies would sometimes carry turnips carved to represent faces. This is the origin of our modern "Jack-o-Lantern". As time passed, the food was converted into candies for the children; today this has become only a fun celebration.

HISTORY OF THE
JACK-O-LANTERN CUSTOM
This custom has it origins on a very old tale, also dated centuries B.C. It said that a a man named Jack made a deal with the devil, so he always had to light up a turnip with an ember he received from the devil. When the Irish immigrants went to America, they didn't find many turnips, instead they found lots of pumpkins, so they started lightening the hollow pumpkins in order to send the devil away.

Halloween Ice Cream

You will need:

1/2 cup evaporated skim milk
1/4 cup honey
1 cup canned or thick cooked pumpkin
1/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ginger
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon salt
3 cups low-fat whipped topping, thawed (8 oz. container)

Combine milk and honey in a saucepan and stir over medium heat until well blended and hot. Do not let mixture boil. Stir in pumpkin, spices, and salt. Chill thoroughly.

When cold, carefully fold in whipping topping. Pour into a shallow pan and freeze until solid.

Party Ideas

Thowing a Halloween party? Need some party ideas? Got some great ones!

How about a "Count The Corn" jar filled with candy corn? The person who guesses how many are in the jar gets to keep it. Inexpensive but fun!

Also great is a "Count The Pennies" jar filled with pennies!

Tape lottery tickets to the bottoms of your guests plates! You could make someone verrrrrry happy!

Have a pumpkin painting contest. It'll be great for the kids, and have enough little prizes on hand so everyone's a winner!

How about a "Table of Horrors" with a treat at the end? Line up a bunch of halloween pails, have your guests stick their hands in the buckets, and let them feel what's inside. Here's a little rhyme to accompany your pails:

The truth it is, and not a myth
That once there lived a man named Smith,
And it became his mournful lot
To be murdered quite near this spot!

We will now feel out his remains
You first will handle poor Smith's brains!
(put some cold spaghetti in the pail)

The head once crowned with locks so fair
Is low - now here comes Smith's soft hair.
(put a wig in the bucket)

When Smith would smile at boys and girls
His teeth gleamed out like whitest pearls.
(this pail could hold some unpopped popcorn)

Smith's vision once was keen and wise
You'll know it when you touch his eyes!
(some peeled grapes make great eyeballs!)

And now up next - you'll get a start
When in this pail you'll feel Smith's heart!
(try a baby beef liver)

Here is the end - now hold your groans
A treat - it's pudding made from old Smith's bones!
(recipe below)

Old Smith's Bones Pudding

You will need:

2 cups cold milk
1 package (4 oz.) Vanilla Instant Pudding
1 tub (8 oz.) whipped topping, thawed
1 package (12 oz.) vanilla wafers, crushed

Mix together and put into 8 to 10 (7 oz.) containers. Plastic beverage cups make great disposable dishes!

"The Raven"
~ by Edgar Allan Poe

Once upon a midnight dreary, while pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,--
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
" 'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door:
Only this and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;--vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow--sorrow for the lost Lenore,
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore:
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me--filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
" 'Tis some visitor entreating entrace at my chamber door,
Some late visitor entreating entrace at my chamber door:
This it is and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"--here I opened wide the door:--
Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whipsered word "Lenore":
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore":
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore;
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore:
'Tis the wind and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door,
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door:
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,--
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore:
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though it answers little meaning--little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door,
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."

But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid, bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered, not a feather then he fluttered,
Till I scarcely more than muttered,--"Other friends have flown before;
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster, till his songs one burden bore:
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never--nevermore.' "

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore,
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy god hath lent thee--by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite--respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, of quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! prophet still, if bird or devil!
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee there ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--
On this home by Horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore:
Is there-- is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us, by that God we both adore,
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore:
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, up-starting:
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and that thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor:
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted--nevermore!