As Kevin helped his dad decorate their house and worked with his mom to create his costume, he was already daydreaming about all the candy he would collect. But one house on his street kept bothering him—it was the only one without decorations. He couldn’t understand why anyone would choose not to celebrate, so he figured they might need some help.

As Halloween drew closer, the neighborhood buzzed with excitement. It seemed like every yard was competing to be the “spookiest on the block.”

Cottony cobwebs draped porches, plastic skeletons dangled from tree branches, and jack-o’-lanterns with jagged grins lined the walkways.

Eleven-year-old Kevin breathed in the sweet scent of candies and dried leaves, his heart pounding with anticipation.

He loved how the whole world seemed to transform for one magical night—Halloween was his favorite time of year because it let him be anything he wanted to be.

His eyes scanned the decorated houses along the street, each one covered in spooky ghosts and glowing pumpkins. He couldn’t help but smile.

Some houses even had eerie sound effects playing—creaking doors and cackling witches added to the atmosphere.

But as he continued down the street, something out of place caught his eye.

In stark contrast to the festive homes around it, one house stood empty and dark. No pumpkins, no cobwebs, no skeletons—nothing.

Not even a small decoration. When Kevin realized it was Mrs. Kimbly’s house, he frowned.

He stopped and stared at the bare front porch. He remembered Mrs. Kimbly well; she was an elderly woman who lived alone and kept mostly to herself.

In the past, Kevin had helped her by shoveling snow during winter and mowing her lawn in the summer. She would quietly pay him before disappearing back inside.

But today, her house seemed out of place, as if it didn’t belong in the cheerful neighborhood.

Why hadn’t Mrs. Kimbly decorated for Halloween when everyone else had? Kevin couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something wasn’t right.

After all, Halloween was a time for celebration, and it didn’t seem fair for anyone to be left out—especially someone like Mrs. Kimbly, who lived alone.

Kevin felt a pang of concern. Maybe she simply needed some help. Maybe she wasn’t able to decorate by herself.

With newfound determination, Kevin dashed across the street to her house. The leaves crunched under his sneakers as he climbed the steps to her front door.

After a brief moment of hesitation, he knocked. The sound echoed in the quiet, and Kevin shifted nervously as he waited. Finally, the door creaked open, and Mrs. Kimbly appeared, her eyes narrowed behind thick glasses and her face set in a deep frown.

She appeared to have been distracted from something significant.

“What do you want, Kevin?” Her voice was low and rough as she asked angrily.

Kevin took a deep breath.

“Hello, Mrs. Kimbly. I recently saw that there are no Halloween decorations at your house, so I assumed you might have forgotten. If you want, I could assist you in hanging some.”

If it was possible, Mrs. Kimbly’s eyes narrowed any further.

“I didn’t forget,” she yelled. “I don’t require assistance or decorations. Now leave.” She took a step to shut the door.”

He shouted out, “I could do it for free!” with haste.”

“You wouldn’t even have to lift a finger.”

Kimbly, Mrs., frowned. She yelled, “No!” and then loudly banged the door shut.

Kevin was incredible. How could someone be so opposed to Halloween?

He was aware that the other kids may target her house for practical jokes, such as flinging toilet paper over her yard, if it remained unadorned.

With a groan, Kevin turned to go, but as he did so, a plan started to take shape in his head.

Sarah, Kevin’s mother, was in the kitchen cooking a pot of soup when Kevin arrived home. Kevin was hardly aware of the reassuring aroma of chicken broth.

His thoughts about Mrs. Kimbly’s gloomy, unadorned home were still racing through his head.

Kevin sat at the kitchen table and remarked, “Mom, something strange happened.” Sarah turned to face him while using a towel to wipe her hands.

She focused entirely on him and said, “What is it, sweetheart?”

As Kevin soon explained, Mrs. Kimbly had slammed the door in his face when he offered to help, and her house was the only one in the neighborhood without Halloween decorations.

But Sarah’s face transformed as he said Mrs. Kimbly’s name. Her eyes clouded with a distant look, and her face softened.

Sarah gently suggested that it might be best to leave her alone.

“We probably don’t understand what she’s going through. People may act in ways we are unaware of for a variety of reasons.”

Kevin shook his head and scowled.

But she needs assistance, Mom. I don’t believe she is truly angry. I believe she’s simply depressed. Halloween is meant to be enjoyable. She shouldn’t have to feel horrible all day.

Sarah’s eyes were worried, but her lips curled into a gentle grin.

“Kevin, you have a good heart. Just watch out, will you? Even when they need assistance, people aren’t always prepared for it.”

As Kevin made his way upstairs to his room, her comments continued to linger in his thoughts. However, he kept thinking that Mrs. Kimbly was simply lonely and didn’t like Halloween.

Kevin collected every Halloween decoration he could find, including plastic spiders, multicolored lights, some of his toys, and even his beloved pumpkin, which he had spent hours carving. He was determined now.

Kevin rushed back to Mrs. Kimbly’s house after packing everything into a little cart.

He was carefully hanging lights and setting pumpkins along her porch while the wind rustled the trees.

Like the other houses on the street, the house began to change. But the front door creaked open as Kevin was finishing touches.

Mrs. Kimbly, her face contorted with rage, rushed out.

“I told you not to decorate my house!” Kevin jumped as he heard Mrs. Kimbly’s piercing, irate voice echoing across the porch.

He stood motionless, staring at her, his heart hammering in his chest.

“What have you done?!” she said, her enraged eyes blazing.

With a sharp gulp, Kevin’s voice was barely audible. He said, “I just wanted to help,” in an attempt to clarify. “It’s Halloween…”

But Mrs. Kimbly interrupted him before he could say anything further.

“I hate Halloween!” she yelled, her voice shaking with annoyance.

As she moved nearer and reached for the closest pumpkin—the one he had carved himself—Kevin’s eyes grew wild. He gave it a toothy smile, the one he had spent hours developing.

Mrs. Kimbly lifted the pumpkin without hesitation and crushed it loudly onto the ground.

Kevin was shocked to see the pumpkin break apart, sending orange pieces flying all over the porch. Gazing at the remains of his favorite pumpkin made his stomach turn.

She was standing there, panting, her face still displaying fury, but beneath her angry exterior was something more, something more profound.

“I apologize,” Kevin said in a barely discernible whisper.

Before Mrs. Kimbly could say another word, he turned and bolted, his feet stomping on the sidewalk as he made his way home.

Kevin dressed up as a vampire that night, but he was unable to embrace the Halloween mood.

He kept thinking about Mrs. Kimbly’s gloomy, unadorned home as he and his pals went from door to house gathering candy. He was aware of the impending event.

The other children wouldn’t comprehend. Kevin couldn’t stop worrying about it because they would target her house without candy or decorations, hurling toilet paper or worse.

Kevin strode back toward Mrs. Kimbly’s house, his vampire cloak billowing behind him, determined not to let anyone ruin her evening.

The streets were crowded with children in costume, laughing, and the sound of crunching leaves, and the air was chilly.

However, Kevin had lost interest in trick or treating. He could only imagine Mrs. Kimbly sitting by herself in her gloomy home, without any decorations or candy to distribute.

Upon his arrival, he took a seat on her front porch steps while holding onto the mostly filled bag of sweets he had already gathered.

Even if the pumpkins he had previously placed were still shining dimly in the evening, the celebration didn’t feel complete without her.

Kevin got up every time a group of children strolled up the walkway, eagerly anticipating candy, and gave them bits from his own bag.

He tried to seem upbeat as he said, “Mrs. Kimbly’s not home,” even though his supply of candy was running low.

While some children appeared perplexed, others simply shrugged and accepted the candy with joy. It didn’t bother Kevin. He was aware that it was preferable to them damaging the house.

After a while, the door behind Kevin creaked open as he sat by himself on the porch, watching the neighborhood come alive with Halloween festivities.

His face was no longer contorted with rage, and he turned in surprise to see Mrs. Kimbly standing there. Her shoulders relaxed and her face softened as she gazed down at him.

“Kevin, what are you doing here?” Her voice was quieter than before she asked.

Kevin shifted uneasily. With a simple expression, he looked up at her and added, “I didn’t want anyone to wreck your house.”

“I thought maybe I could help, even though I know you don’t like Halloween.”

After hesitating, Mrs. Kimbly let out a long sigh and took a seat next to him on the stairs.

For a minute, she remained silent as she watched the children running from house to house on the street.

Her normally grim face softened even further, and there was a trace of grief in her voice when she eventually spoke.

“I apologize for what I did earlier,” she said. “Kevin, I wasn’t angry with you. I just find Halloween difficult. Seeing everyone else celebrate makes me realize how alone I am because I have no children or grandchildren.”

Kevin’s heart fell. It had never occurred to him in that way. He turned to her and continued, “But you don’t have to be alone.”

“You and the rest of us may still appreciate it. We would be delighted if you could participate.”

Mrs. Kimbly’s eyes gleamed with emotion as she smiled slightly, sadly.

Kevin, you’re right. For too long, I’ve let my loneliness control me. In a rare act of generosity, she reached across and gave him a gentle touch on the hand.

“I appreciate all you accomplished today. I also apologize for your pumpkin. I ought not to have destroyed it.”

Her remarks made Kevin smile and warmed his heart. “It’s all right,” he said. “I’m at home with another one. We can cut it together when I bring it over.”

Mrs. Kimbly gave a quiet laugh that Kevin had never heard before. Thanks to the generosity of one little youngster, she experienced the warmth of Halloween for the first time in years as she watched him go out to collect the pumpkin.

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