When I was  a teenager, the annual Halloween party was held in the spooky basement at my home.  We ate lots of scary food I had purchased at the grocery store. My Mom wasn’t that much into snack food unless you wanted Sauerbraten for Halloween. Then we bobbed for apples, and later roamed the neighborhood for treats—not many tricks but lots of treats. Then everyone came back to the house to find out which team had won first prize in our yearly  scavenger hunt. And then, every year,  we would sing, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” to my Dad, because it was his birthday. He wasn’t invited to the party, but he always enjoyed the song.

My costume was always home-made and simple. I am still into simple, and it’s easy to pick out my costume among the crowd at a Halloween party. When asked, “Who is that masked woman?” My answer usually is, “I am the Masked Stranger.” Yes, I am the “Lone Masked Stranger,” wearing a mask which has obviously slipped from my eyes to cover my nose and mouth. A crowd of people in a small area still makes me want to avoid a Covid hangover in the next few days, and I don’t care if I’m the only one who hasn’t gotten sick.

Recently, a group of women went to a friend’s house to play Bridge. Happily I wasn’t invited because: 1. I did not know the hostess. 2. I don’t play Bridge and 3. It hurt’s my hand to hold a fan of cards.

 It turns out that the hostess’s husband had Covid, and although he wasn’t in the vicinity, his germs obviously joined the game, and, unfortunately six of the guests, including the hostess,
got the prize.  Sadly they had gone a bridge too far.

Happily this tale does have a happy ending, because, as far as I know, everyone recuperated.  However, the next time, when you are in a crowd, and see a lone woman wearing a mask over her nose and mouth…just greet  me  with a hearty…”HI, HO, SILVER!”

Esther Blumenfeld