I had been living in Israel already for six months, but still wasn't fully culturally acclimated. Now, I always have a problem figuring out the time difference between here and back in the States when phoning long distance, but who ever heard of a five-month time delay!

Yet here I could see, in the middle of March, trick-or-treaters of every shape and size, buzzing up and down the streets of my usually quiet Jerusalem neighborhood. Many of the costumes were absolutely incredible, and even some adults were dressed up.

When I heard my doorbell ring, I panicked. I didn't have a drop of candy in the house to give. Who knew what tricks this crowd was capable of playing if I turned them away without a treat. I remember back home. "Trick or treat -- double treat to smell my feet." And what a nightmare the morning after could be, wiping away and cleaning up the damage done by kids I hadn't "treated" well enough.

As I opened the door, my heart rate tripled. Standing there, grinning from ear-to-ear, were five costumed pre-teens, each holding a fancier stash of goodies than I had ever imagined.

"I'm really sorry, guys," I started to say. "I just don't have anything to give you." The kids gave each other a puzzled look and began to giggle.

"I really mean it kids," I pleaded. "I just didn't know that today was Halloween, please don't vandalize my house." By now, the kids were laughing out loud. Not angry, just amused.

Finally the biggest boy quieted the others and said, "Mr. Solomon, I don't think you understand. We didn't come to take anything from you. We came here to give you something." And with that, each of them handed me their beautifully wrapped gift baskets.

"What's the trick?" I asked, unbelievingly.

"There's no trick here, Mr. Solomon. Today is the holiday of Purim," said a boy in a gorilla suit. "These are "shalach manos" baskets. We all go around today and bring gifts of food to our friends and neighbors. Happy Purim!"

With that, they turned and left. Empty-handed and really happy.

And they were just the first of dozens of visitors who left my front porch filled with enough goodies to last me until next Hallow... er, Purim.

So in the end, the 'trick' was on me. And the real 'treat' was to see young people having a great time learning that the true joy in life is not to take, but to give.