Humor

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This is the time of the year when the little people in our community don masks and costumes and traverse from house to house demanding treats or else! And woe be to the household that runs out of treats. It would be better that a millstone be hanged about his neck and … well you know the rest.

The Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage and Yours Truly plan to be ready and amply armed with the necessary treats for the evening. I have been secretly stockpiling my special war chest for the evening and I’m looking forward to all those scary “little” people ringing our doorbell in the dark of the night. Actually, we’ll leave the lights on.

It is the one night of the year when people can pretend to be whatever or whoever they want without fear of embarrassment or harassment. We are free to express ourselves in ways we would never dream of doing in polite society.

It is the one night of the year when blackmail is encouraged. According to the time-honored tradition, either pony up a treat or get a trick. As a young person, there were a few houses where my pals and I hoped there would not be treats so we could, in good conscience, give out a trick. I must admit a few times n OK, quite a few times n when we worked outside our conscience in this regard.

All of our tricks were innocent. At least from our point of view. The trickster always thinks the trick is innocent while the trickee may harbor a radically different point of view. It all depends on which side of the door you are on at the time. Our philosophy at the time could be summed up in a few words: “The beauty of tricks is always in the bag of the holder.” It made sense to us at the time.

Does a mask really make much difference? Is it really liberating? Does a mask really fool anyone?

Several years ago, my wife and I discovered that for some, it really does make a difference.

It was the eve of All Saint’s Day and my wife and I had to make a quick trip to the store for some last minute treats. Those were the good ole days when women rolled their hair up in curlers.

Her hair not quite dry she wrapped a scarf around it and we jumped into the car and headed for the store.

On the way back from the store, we saw Pauley, a member of our little congregation, walking down the street quite a ways from his house. So, my wife suggested we stop and take him home.

I chuckle every time I think of Pauley. Not only didn’t Pauley’s elevator go to the top floor, most days he refused to even walk up the stairs.

I remember the day the Bishop came to our church for some special service. The Bishop will never forget it, either.

Pauley always wore an old fedora exactly one size too small for him.

That fateful day the Bishop, a rather large man, wore a black bowler that fit him exactly.

After the service, the Bishop went to get his coat and hat. Where his hat should have been was a small, decrepit old fedora. When I saw the old hat, my heart sank. I immediately recognized the hat.

The next time I saw Pauley he proudly wore a big black derby at least two sizes too big for him resting quite comfortably on his protruding ears. How he saw where he was going is beyond me.

I didn’t have the heart to tell the Bishop who took his hat and I didn’t have the heart to take the hat away from Pauley. As long as I knew Pauley, he wore the Bishop’s hat, summer or winter, every day of his life. He probably got more pleasure from it than the Bishop ever would have.

I pulled up alongside of Pauley, he opened the door, got in and sat in the back seat in silence for a little while. Pauley was a quiet and strange man.

In church when the time for the offering came, all the ushers would look in Pauley’s direction. It never failed. He always did the same thing Sunday after Sunday. He sat in his pew looking straight ahead and when the usher got to his row, Pauley’s head dropped to his chest in deep sleep. This slumber lasted until the offering plate by-passed him.

Driving away from the curb, I heard Pauley snicker. His snicker was a good imitation of steam escaping from an old steam heater.

Finally, he could contain himself no longer. He looked at my wife in her curlers with a big scarf wrapped around her head and laughed aloud.

Then Pauley said, “I know who you are. You can’t fool me.” Then he laughed some more.

Sometimes people put on a mask thinking they can hide who they are. The Bible says, “For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known” (1 Corinthians 13:12 KJV).

One day each person will stand before God without any mask. Then we will be known as we are truly. Only Jesus Christ makes a mask unnecessary. Trust Him today.

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