The doorbell rang about an hour ago--I'm house sitting, so there's a doorbell, as opposed to people knocking on the hull and hollering "Violet?" through the hatch. Anyway, I was startled by the unexpected sound, and the dog I'm babysitting erupted into a high-pitched barking festival, rocketing down the stairs and skidding on all four paws through the fresh coat of paint I've been putting down since 9:30 this morning. The dog sitting coincides with a painting job, and the two haven't been easy to balance.

I wasn't expecting anyone, so I opened the curtain to see who was there. I saw a group of fairies with sparkly, pastel wings and antennae, and one girl in a sweatshirt and baseball cap. Who wouldn't open the door for that? As I did, I realized I don't have any Halloween candy. Not only do I not live here, I haven't lived anywhere with trick-or-treaters in more than ten years, so I'm out of the habit.

As I opened the door, they all smiled expectantly, and waited politely for me to subdue the dog, who although very small, was creating a big scene with her jumping and howling. I smiled back and asked, "Is it Halloween?" I was still holding a long-handled roller covered with terra cotta-colored paint, which also spotted my shirt and pants.

"No," they all answered, smiling at the dog and at me, it wasn't Halloween, and the appointed leader explained that they were having a scavenger hunt. I asked what they needed, thinking at the same time of what a quaint custom it seemed, having a scavenger hunt, and how nice it was to be in a small town, where kids were allowed to run around in costume and knock on strangers' doors. They needed candy corn and earrings, and as I felt my ear to see if I was wearing any, one girl added, "Like, an old pair that you don't wear any more." I didn't have any earrings on, although I would have gladly given them up, and in my moment of silence, one girl said, "Oh, you don't wear earrings," saving me from embarrassment. I apologized and said I didn't have any candy corn. They all said, "Oh, that's OK!" making sure I didn't feel bad, and cheerfully turned to leave.

I watched them turn away in a group, and wished them luck. "You all look so cute!" I said, and they said, "Thank you!" happily as they sparkled off into the dark, in search of candy corn and earrings.

I remember when I had the confidence to walk up to a strange door and ring the bell, a youthful confidence that relies heavily on innocence. It's more fleeting than youth, but just as irretrievable.

When they left, I closed the door and wiped off the dog's orange paws, then picked up the roller to cover over the tracks we'd made through the foyer.

Star of the day. . .Maggie Golston