Kevin had already helped his mom craft a costume and assisted his dad in decorating their house, eagerly imagining the mountain of candy he’d collect on Halloween night. Yet, something kept nagging at him—an undecorated house on his street. He couldn’t understand why anyone would skip celebrating, so he figured they must need help. The neighborhood buzzed with excitement as Halloween approached. Every yard seemed to be trying to outdo the others for the title of “spookiest house.” Jack-o’-lanterns with jagged smiles lit up the sidewalks, plastic skeletons dangled from trees, and cobwebs clung to porches. The air smelled of dry leaves and candy, and eleven-year-old Kevin breathed it all in, his heart racing with excitement. Halloween was his favorite day of the year. It was the one day you could be anyone you wanted, and Kevin loved how the world transformed into something magical for just one night. As he wandered down the street, his eyes flickered from one house to the next, each one decked out in glowing decorations or eerie ghosts. The sound of cackling witches and creaking doors filled the air, and Kevin couldn’t help but smile. But then, something caught his eye.

One house stood out, and not in a good way. It was completely dark, void of any Halloween spirit—no pumpkins, no cobwebs, not even a skeleton. The sight made Kevin frown. It was Mrs. Kimbly’s house.He remembered Mrs. Kimbly as the quiet older lady who lived alone and rarely interacted with the neighbors. Kevin had mowed her lawn in the summer and shoveled her driveway in the winter, but she never said much, just handed him the payment before disappearing inside. Now, her undecorated house felt out of place in the festive neighborhood.Why hadn’t Mrs. Kimbly decorated for Halloween? Everyone else had. Kevin couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Halloween was supposed to be fun, and it didn’t seem right for anyone—especially someone living alone—to miss out.Determined, Kevin dashed across the street toward her house. Leaves crunched beneath his sneakers as he climbed the steps to her front door. He hesitated, then knocked, the sound echoing through the quiet house. After a long pause, the door creaked open, and there stood Mrs. Kimbly, her face stern, her eyes narrowed behind thick glasses.“What do you want, Kevin?” she asked in a gruff voice.Kevin swallowed, his nerves getting the better of him. “Hi, Mrs. Kimbly. I noticed your house isn’t decorated for Halloween, and I thought maybe you forgot. I could help if you’d like.”Mrs. Kimbly’s expression hardened. “I didn’t forget,” she snapped. “I don’t need any decorations, and I don’t need your help. Now, go away.” She moved to close the door. Kevin’s heart sank, but he wasn’t ready to give up. “I could do it for free!” he blurted out. “You wouldn’t even have to lift a finger.” But Mrs. Kimbly scowled. “No!” she barked before slamming the door shut. Kevin stood there, stunned. How could someone hate Halloween so much? He knew her house would become a target for pranks if it stayed undecorated. Kids might toilet paper her yard, and he didn’t want that to happen. As Kevin walked home, an idea formed in his mind. He wasn’t ready to give up just yet. Back at home, Kevin found his mom in the kitchen, stirring a pot of soup. “Mom,” he began, sitting at the table, “something weird happened.” He quickly told her about Mrs. Kimbly’s undecorated house and how she had slammed the door in his face. But when he mentioned Mrs. Kimbly’s name, his mom’s expression softened. “Maybe it’s best to leave her alone,” she suggested gently. “People sometimes have reasons for doing things we don’t understand.” Kevin frowned. “But, Mom, I don’t think she’s really mad… I think she’s sad. Halloween is supposed to be fun, and no one should feel left out.” His mom smiled softly. “You have a good heart, Kevin. Just remember, some people aren’t ready for help, even when they need it.” Her words lingered in Kevin’s mind, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Mrs. Kimbly was just lonely. He was determined to make her Halloween brighter. The next day, Kevin gathered every decoration he could find—colorful lights, plastic spiders, and even his favorite pumpkin, the one he had spent hours carving. It was special to him, but if it meant making Mrs. Kimbly smile, he was willing to give it up. Kevin loaded everything into a wagon and headed back to her house. He worked quickly, hanging lights and arranging pumpkins on her porch. The house was slowly transforming, but just as he finished placing the last pumpkin, the door burst open. “What do you think you’re doing?” Mrs. Kimbly stormed out, her face red with anger. “I told you not to decorate my house!” Kevin froze, heart pounding. “I just wanted to help,” he said quietly. “It’s Halloween…” But before he could say more, Mrs. Kimbly grabbed the nearest pumpkin—the one he had carved—and smashed it onto the ground. The pumpkin shattered, its pieces scattering across the porch. Kevin blinked back tears as he stared at the broken pieces. He had spent hours perfecting that pumpkin, and now it was ruined. But more than that, he was hurt. Without a word, Kevin turned and ran home. That night, dressed in his vampire costume, Kevin couldn’t enjoy Halloween. As he wandered from house to house collecting candy with his friends, his thoughts kept returning to Mrs. Kimbly’s dark house. He knew the other kids might prank her, and he didn’t want that to happen. Determined to stop any trouble, Kevin headed back to Mrs. Kimbly’s house. He sat on her porch, handing out candy from his own bag to trick-or-treaters, explaining, “Mrs. Kimbly’s not home.” He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there when the front door opened. Startled, Kevin looked up to see Mrs. Kimbly, her face no longer angry. “What are you doing here, Kevin?” she asked softly. “I didn’t want anyone to mess with your house,” he said. “I thought maybe I could help.” Mrs. Kimbly sighed and sat down beside him. “I’m sorry for earlier,” she said, her voice filled with regret. “Halloween is hard for me. I don’t have any family, and seeing everyone else celebrate makes me feel alone.” Kevin’s heart ached. “You don’t have to be alone,” he said. “You can celebrate with us. We’d love to have you join in.” A small, sad smile crept across Mrs. Kimbly’s face. “You’re a kind boy, Kevin. Thank you for what you did. And I’m sorry about your pumpkin.” “It’s okay,” Kevin said, smiling back. “I have another one at home. We can carve it together if you want.” Mrs. Kimbly chuckled softly. As Kevin dashed off to grab the pumpkin, for the first time in years, she felt the warmth of Halloween again—all thanks to a boy who refused to give up. 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