This statue by Jean Dubout caught my eye in the Louvre. This poor lady has obviously had quite enough of the pesky cherub who appears to be reaching out for something…candy probably.
Australia has never had Halloween as a custom so my generation looks at the whole thing with rather a jaundiced eye I am afraid. In fact, last year I decided to take a stand. There would be no candy for anyone. I would not succumb to “foreign” notions and permit random infants to come begging for food at my door. I would inform them that we did not believe in such things and send them away empty handed, chastened but wiser in the ways of the world (well Australia)
Then the doorbell rang.
I put on my most forbidding look (imagine Santa discovering a child has been naughty all year and you get the idea) and flung wide the portal.
“Twick or tweet?”
A small child of almost sickening sweetness stood before me clutching a little basket. The huge blue eyes looked up beseechingly and a smile that would break the hardest heart beamed from its cherubic face.
“Twick or tweet?” it lisped again.
All my good intentions…all my determination not to be drawn into such malarkey evaporated in an instant. As I desperately tried to recall if there was anything in the pantry that could be considered a “tweet” a voice inside my head said,
“You know you are about to break a child’s heart?”
As I knew that I had no candy anywhere and that a jar of bolognaise sauce or the remnants of a gorgonzola cheese was unlikely to appeal, I had no choice but to mouth the terrible words that would surely wipe the smile from this little angel’s countenance.
“I am so sorry but I do not have anything for you tonight.”
The reaction was even worse than I expected.
The beatific smile never wavered.
“Dat’s OK. I got deeze ones! Would you like one” he said, delightedly showing me his small and pathetic collection of cheap treats.
I could only shake my head in shame.
“Fank you!” he said with wonderful politeness, turned and vanished into the night.
I returned to my kitchen, sadder but wiser while a voice in my head said…
A manner-less brat dressed like a witch who eggs my letterbox I can handle. Wandering angels I cannot.
Never again will I be without treats on Halloween.