The most fun I’ve ever had on Halloween was as a teenager, dressed as the Phantom of the Opera, racing around neighborhoods after dark, my black cape flowing behind me, with a totally legit reason for being a teenager out on Halloween night: Church.

For several years, my church youth group trick-or-treated for canned goods and non-perishable food items for Active Faith, the local food pantry. In the days before October 31, we’d canvas local neighborhoods, distributing flyers explaining what we were doing and asking folks to have donations ready.

On the big night, we’d gather in the church basement (which one year was filled about six inches all around with leaves) for snacks, cider and a costume contest. Then we hit the road.

In teams of three or four kids plus one adult driving a car, we’d fan out across South Lyon, Michigan, leaping up porch steps and shouting “Trick or can!” “What?” “Trick or can!” “Aren’t you kids too old for this?” “We’re collecting food, not taking candy. Got any soup you could give away?”

And eight times out of ten, the surprised homeowner would get up and shuffle back to the pantry, or shout into the house, “Margaret, these kids are collecting canned goods!” and we’d romp away with pillow cases loaded with Campbell’s Soup, canned corn, and boxes of mac and cheese mix. Nine times out of ten we got candy, too.

We’d race down to the car, dump the goods in, and strategize about the rest of the street. “You take that side, I’ll take the other. The car will meet us at the top of the hill.”

Did I mention it was a contest? Highest can and box count at the end of the night wins. One year the prize was a super-low-budget trip to Chicago, the youth pastor’s home town, and my team won. That is another story.

Why was trick-or-canning a thrill? The dressing up as a phantom, the racing around after dark, breath puffing into vapor in the chilled late autumn air. The teamwork, the strategy, the hyper-hilarious energy of trying to win. The jitters of the prospect of seeing the boy I liked with his team back at the party. The genuine pleasure, rebels be damned, of doing something to help people. The surprise on people’s faces: “you’re collecting what?” The being young and consumed with one goal for two hours.

Happy Halloween, everyone. Help each other. Do good in disguise. Remember the innocent thrills.

P.S.: Full moon tonight, and she’s beautiful.