Tonight, the world flickers with jack-o’-lanterns and laughter. Children dress in costumes, doorbells chime, and the air hums with mischief. But beneath the revelry, a deeper mystery stirs. October 31 is not merely Halloween—it is All Hallows’ Eve, the sacred vigil before the Feast of All Saints.
In the ancient rhythm of the Church, this night is a threshold. A holy pause before the great celebration of the saints—those luminous souls who have gone before us, bearing witness to the transforming power of grace. “Hallow” means holy. And this is their eve.
While the world may fixate on shadows, we are invited to remember the light. The saints were not distant icons, but real people who struggled, suffered, and surrendered. They were mothers and mystics, martyrs and monks, teachers and teenagers. They bore the wounds of the world and still chose love. Their halos were not earned through perfection, but through perseverance in grace.
Tonight, we are not called to fear the dark, but to kindle the flame. To remember that we, too, are called to holiness. That the same Spirit who sanctified Francis and Thérèse, Oscar Romero and Josephine Bakhita, burns within us.
So light a candle. Whisper a prayer. Name your saints—those canonized and those known only to you. Let their stories stir your own. And as you pass by the costumed crowds or tuck your children into bed, remember: this is All Hallows’ Eve. A night not of fright, but of fierce hope. A night when heaven leans close.
Tomorrow, we will sing of the saints in glory. But tonight, we keep vigil with them. And in the quiet, they remind us: you, too, are called to shine.
Smitten With Goodness 