Dear Editor,

Some of my fondest childhood memories are of trick-or-treating down the streets of Raymondville.

It seems every year I dressed as Dracula, complete with black cape and fake plastic fangs.

My routine was to trick-or-treat with my flashlight with Mom around our neighborhood on the east side of town.

We always targeted houses we knew because of news report warnings of tampered candy and razor blades inside apples.

Along the way, it was always fun to see the other costumes people wore.

Every year we'd see colorful clowns, soldiers in camoflauge, football players, a princess or two, a ghost costume made from a bedsheet, and of course the bad guy in a hockey mask.

The people of Raymondville were always generous with giving candy, especially if they were related to you.

My tias Santos, Julia and Fela would give away homemade cookies shaped like pumpkins, or cupcakes with plastic spiders on top of them. Their house was always popular in our neighborhood.

I remember houses that had extravagant decorations, scary sounds coming from cassette players and even haunted driveways or porches that had creepy things dangling from the roof.

Those houses were my favorite. Sometimes I would go back and blend in with other kids just to get the scary experience twice.

Perhaps the house I remember most was Doña Maria and her husband Antonio's house on Petra Street.

It was a small wooden house that was kelly green in color. There was a lone orange tree near the front porch that Antonio took great pride in.

I didn't like stopping at Doña Maria and Antonio's house.

My Mom loved to stay and chat with her old friend, which cut into my trick-or-treating.

Plus, Doña Maria never gave candy. Instead her husband Antonio would give a few oranges (from his tree) and a handful of peanuts (still in the shell) from Mexico.

Of course I told them, "Gracias," because I knew better.

My Mom saw the disappointment on my face and quickly told me to be grateful that Doña Maria and Antonio gave me oranges and peanuts. She explained that I need to appreciate that they gave me what they could.

When we got home, I would dump my candy load on the sofa and stare wide-eyed at my sweet treasure.

I had an ample pile of mini Snicker bars, candy corn lollipops, bubble gum, jawbreakers, butterscotch candy, peanut butter candy in orange wrappers, milk duds and baked cookies from my aunts.

The oranges and peanuts would sit untouched for my Dad to eat while he watched the scary movie marathon on television.

Being a kid with a major sweet tooth, I was only interested in candy.

This was my trick-or-treat routine for years, until it all changed.

One year we didn't stop at Doña Maria's house. My mother explained to me that Antonio died a few months earlier and Doña Maria wouldn't leave her house anymore.

The small wooden house was dark with loneliness and the orange tree look neglected.

We walked past the small kelly green house in silence.

When I got home that night, I sorted through my pile of multicolored candy wrappers, and noticed something was missing.

I didn't see the oranges or peanuts from Doña Maria's house.

Trick-or-treating was never the same again.

If you're planning to trick-or-treat, be safe, appreciate people's genorosity, and enjoy the memories you make.

Smiley Rodriguez, Raymondville, TX