Suddenly, an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said, "Why your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine."

The crowd and the young man looked at the old man's heart. It was beating strongly, but full of scars, it had places where pieces had been removed and other pieces put in, but they didn't fit quite right and there were several jagged edges. In fact, in some places there were deep gouges where whole pieces were missing. The people stared -- how can he say his heart is more beautiful, they thought?

The young man looked at the old man's heart and saw its state and laughed. "You must be joking," he said. "Compare your heart with mine, mine is perfect and yours is a mess of scars and tears."

"Yes," said the old man, "Yours is perfect looking but I would never trade with you. You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love - I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them, and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty place in my heart, but because the pieces aren't exact, I have some rough edges, which I cherish, because they remind me of the love we shared.

"Sometimes I have given pieces of my heart away, and the other person hasn't returned a piece of his heart to me. These are the empty gouges -- giving love is taking a chance. Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for these people too, and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I have waiting. So now do you see what true beauty is?"

The young man stood silently with tears running down his cheeks. He walked up to the old man, reached into his perfect young and beautiful heart, and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the old man with trembling hands.

The old man took his offering, placed it in his heart and then took a piece from his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man's heart. It fit, but not perfectly, as there were some jagged edges.

The young man looked at his heart, not perfect anymore but more beautiful than ever, since love from the old man's heart flowed into his. They embraced and walked away side by side.

Once upon a time two brothers who lived on adjoining farms fell into conflict. It was the first serious rift in 40 years of farming side by side, sharing machinery, and trading labor and goods as needed without a hitch.

Then the long collaboration fell apart. It began with a small misunderstanding and it grew into a major difference, and finally it exploded into an exchange of bitter words followed by weeks of silence.

One morning there was a knock on John's door. He opened it to find a man with a carpenter's toolbox.

"I'm looking for a few days work" he said. "Perhaps you would have a few small jobs here and there. Could I help you?"

"Yes," said the older brother. "I do have a job for you. Look across the creek at that farm. That's my neighbor, in fact, it's my younger brother. Last week there was a meadow between us and he took his bulldozer to the river levee and now there is a creek between us. Well, he may have done this to spite me, but I'll go him one better. See that pile of lumber curing by the barn? I want you to build me a fence -- an 8-foot fence -- so I won't need to see his place anymore. Cool him down, anyhow."

The carpenter said, "I think I understand the situation. Show me the nails and the post-hole digger and I'll be able to do a job that pleases you."

The older brother had to go to town for supplies, so he helped the carpenter get the materials ready and then he was off for the day.

The carpenter worked hard all that day measuring, sawing, nailing. About sunset when the farmer returned, the carpenter had just finished his job.

The farmer's eyes opened wide, his jaw dropped. There was no fence there at all. It was a bridge -- a bridge stretching from one side of the creek to the other! A fine piece of work -- handrails and all -- and the neighbor, his younger brother, was coming across, his hand outstretched.

"You are quite a fellow to build this bridge after all I've said and done."

The two brothers stood at each end of the bridge, and then they met in the middle, taking each other's hand. They turned to see the carpenter hoist his toolbox on his shoulder.

"No, wait! Stay a few days. I've a lot of other projects for you," said the older brother.

"I'd love to stay on," the carpenter said, "but, I have many more bridges to build."

Just as the sun was going down, the wind started to blow so hard it made the trees groan. All day it seemed like a storm was coming. It got dark very early, kind of smoky dark outdoors with lots of heavy gray clouds and the wind kept blowing. Everyone had their car headlights on by four o'clock.

Grandma stopped by a friend's home for a visit, because she always misses her children and grandchildren on Sundays and holidays. They wanted her to go with them to a party in downtown Dallas. Instead, Grandma decided to go on home and relax before the storm really hit. A light rain had already begun to fall, slowly, but in big drops.

Finishing her visit with her friends Grandma wished them a "Happy Pumpkin Day," and said good-bye. She stopped at the grocery store on the way home to pick up some food and sneak a peek at the Trick or Treaters.

By the time she got home it was nearly seven o'clock at night. The storm had started, so she parked in the "No Parking" area, close to her front door just to take her groceries inside. She had to go find a parking spot after that. The closest one was way around the corner from where she lived, by some trash dumpsters.

Just as Grandma got out of her car and closed the door, she heard a "Whoosh" sound come from one of the trash dumpsters. Her heart felt like it had stopped beating, and she stopped breathing, after uttering a sound. "Eeeee Yipes!" through her scared stiff jaws. Grandma tried to get into the car, but she couldn't get the key into the lock, so she ran for her door as fast as she could.

Grandma had left the door unlocked when she went to park the car, so it opened right away. She quickly slipped inside, put on her security alarm, and leaned against the door until she could get her breath.

The groceries had to be put away, so she began that task thinking she would not eat the fresh shrimp she had just bought, but jump into bed and watch television, all cozy and warm, so she would be ready for work in the morning.

As Grandma was pulling the milk in the refrigerator, she heard something fall and hit the patio. It made a 'thud' sound. Thinking that it was "Gypsy," the friendly dog next door, Grandma peeked out through the mini-blinds. As her eyes moved from the patio cement up toward the railing, she felt a very cold breeze sweep past her, and then, she suddenly saw a big cloud on the patio, spiraling about in one place. "It" stopped and moved over close to the door. She was scared still! Again!

Backing away from the patio doors, very slowly, Grandma sat down in her chair right under her security alarm buttons, to wait to see if she had seen what she though she did. Nothing happened so she got up and went to her bedroom to put on her "jams (if only she could have taken a deep, warm bath she thought, but it was still lightening outside).

Grandma finished putting on her warm nightclothes, and left her bedroom, with a pillow tucked under her arm, heading for the sofa. Turning back to switch off the light, she heard that sound again; the one she had heard by the dumpsters.

She spun around looking back into her room. There, looking right through the closed mini-blinds, was a huge pumpkin face. It asked her, in a hoarse voice, "Whhhhyyyy doooon't yooooooo liiike Halloween?"

Grandma pulled her bedroom door shut, with a bang, and fled into the front bedroom that was her office, so fast that her feet didn't touch the floor. She slithered under the covers and pulled them over her head. Grandma could feel her heart banging away, a hard, "lub-dub." In the same rhythm she kept saying, "I DO like Hal O Ween! I DO like Hal O Ween! I DO like Hal O Ween!" over and over again, until she fell asleep.

The next morning Grandma woke up and went right to her patio doors. She peeked out the blinds very carefully. There was nothing there. Grandma loves the morning air; so she slid the door open, like she always did, and went out to sit in a patio chair, to drink her cup of coffee.

There, on the patio, was an old candle stub inside a huge broken pumpkin shell!

So, no, Grandma did not have a good Halloween. In fact, she doesn't want to have another one, unless she is with her family, or friends, who knew her well. She said that a stranger would think she was 'coo coo.'

But, Grandma does love to make jack-o-lanterns (she no longer says the "p" word, any more), and her love for "P pie" hasn't changed, and harvest scenes are one of her favorites, and the weather... but no, Grandma does not like Halloween.