Is it trick or treat?

Is Halloween in conflict with our Jewish values? Or is trick-or-treating just harmless childhood fun? I'm happy to offer the reasoning behind the decision I've made for my children. But in doing so, I'll need to take a brief diversion to a scorching day in July.

Last summer, my husband and I decided to cash in our frequent flyer miles and take our four children to Italy. One day, we drove our rented minivan to the Tuscan town of Siena. We'd anticipated the challenges of driving an American-sized vehicle on roads better suited for Hot-Wheels toys, but we were unprepared for the navigational challenges we encountered just inside the city's gates. For lining Siena's cobblestone streets were hundreds, if not thousands, of wildly cheering pedestrians. This wasn't just any day under the Tuscan sun; it was Palio.

Palio, my Fodor's guide enlightened me, is a 1,000-year-old annual horse race between each of Siena's 17 contrade, or neighborhoods. Originally a tribute to the Madonna, Palio has since evolved into a fiercely competitive party. So there we were, six Americans thankful to have finally found an oversized parallel parking spot, standing smack dab in the middle of a 1,000-year-old Italian tradition.

We tailed the crowds to Piazza de Campo, Palio's epicenter, where scores of Siena residents dotted a makeshift horsetrack, each draped in one of the colorful flags we'd noticed hanging from virtually every doorway in town.

Before I could say arrivederci, my sons had seized an overpriced, contrade-flag-selling kiosk, wrapped themselves in banners and begun parading the track alongside the Italian children.

After hours of partying in Mediterranean heat, my kids became thirsty, tired and cranky. An offer of lukewarm water prompted the Tasmanian Devil, formerly known as Jake, to whine, "I want a cold drink ... with ICE!" It seemed we'd trudged for miles before we saw it down a narrow alley on one of the zillions of Palio flags: a symbol, not of a ram or a panther, but of an American fast-food chain. My children's Palio flags slipped to the ground, as every slurp of their sub-zero sodas brought them that much closer to the comforts of home.

This leads me back to Halloween, an event with more than just a passing resemblance to Palio. Both occasions have religious roots - Palio, originating as a tribute to the Virgin Mary, and Halloween, kicked off by the pagan Celts to chase away evil spirits. Over many centuries, both events have lost obvious religious significance and evolved into giant parties, the celebration of which are embedded in the cultures of their respective countries.

My classically American children will never forget the day they ran through cobblestone streets wrapped in Palio flags. And my deeply Jewish children will never forget the nights they ran through our neighborhood draped in Spiderman and Cinderella costumes.

The long-gone pagan roots of Halloween don't feel any more of a threat to my children's Judaism than taking part in the ancient Italian party of Palio was to their Americanism. For whether draped in Palio flags or Spiderman costumes, my kids' insides remain the same - Jewish, American and just a tad Tasmanian Devil.

Sharon Estroff is an award-winning educator and author of a nationally syndicated Jewish parenting column.

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