Kids come along your door ‘trick or treating’ on the eleventh of the eleventh, St Martins Day. It’s a feast only celebrated in some parts of Flanders, in Northern France and some parts of the Netherlands. It’s the Feast of St Martin of Tours or Martin le Miséricordieux.
I had enough sweets and chocolate minis [Mars, Snickers and Twix bars] to go around. I heard the kids singing in the street and waited for the doorbell to ring… but nothing happened. No-one rang my bell.
Meanwhile my parents, a mile up the road, forgot about St Martin, until their doorbell rang! What to do? Open the door and offering them a gurking, or doing as if no-one’s at home? My Dad opened the door anyway, told the new kids from next door they forgot all about it, and offered a slice of breakfast-cake slathered with real butter as a treat. To the kids this was a welcome change of all the sweets they had collected through the whole apartment building, at 60 homes they received chocolate and hard candy, and number 61 gave nice sweet cake smothered in butter.
If you’re wondering where my stash went… I threw it away, my Mum told me that was a waste, but temptation was lurking around the corner. Better have one good piece of chocolate a day then the sweet smell of chocolate phantasy [the ones used to make bars] around the house.