When I was 4, my daddy told me I was his princess and brought me all the classic fairytales I still love. Happily-ever-after and magic wands consumed my mind then.
Magic, I could see it all around me. There was treasure under the bed, between the couch’s cushions and in my mommy’s handbag. A blade of grass, a frog, cow poop; they were all equally beautiful, amazing and grabbed my attention day after day.
When I was 5 my mommy told me that I could be anything I wanted to be. I could live the life of Belle and Snow White and Jasmine, she said. Some day, one day, she whispered, I would be someone’s princess as well.
Dreams, they filled my little head, sent my heart racing and I couldn’t wait to be a grown up; to live the happily-ever-after. And when things got tough mommy told me that it would make me a woman of great character; a woman of great strength; an individual who would know just how to get my happily-ever-after.
It was fine to have invisible friends and it was just fine to talk to myself and keep my own company, mommy said. We are always our own best friends and we create our own magic. There’s always magic in everything, anywhere, any time we wish to see it. It’s like Peter Pan said, we’ve just got to believe and believing isn’t so hard.
I can believe in magic without chanting Pan’s life-giving mantra: “I do believe in magic”. You see, I do believe in magic. It’s the easiest thing to do in this world. It keeps me happy on miserable days and it gives life to my hope for a happily-ever-after.
When I was 6 daddy told me that Santa Claus wasn’t real. I cried a whole night for old St Nick. But then the very next day I’d found an answer for daddy. You see daddy, I told him, there’s what you call a time difference, some places are hours ahead and some hours behind so this gives Santa Claus all the time he needs to visit all the homes of all the believers in one night cause it’s a very long night.
Aha! I showed him. He never tried to kill old St Nick again. In fact, he never said anything about fairy god mothers, good witches and princesses every again. Instead, he brought me my first batch of Enid Blyton books and introduced me further to the world of dwarves, elves, pixies, giants and all the hidden exotic people.
And then when I was 7 I found my magic wand. With my wand I most definitely could create magic for myself and for other people too. My wand is proof that magic exists, my wand keeps magic alive. It brings magic to those lives which greatly need a little bit of belief in a, in any happily-ever-after.
Today, I’m a grown woman. Well, at least I look like one. On Wednesday it rained cats and dogs. So I tied my hair back with a ribbon, grabbed my floppy-eared bunny and skipped to work. I got some queer looks; a little too much attention but this was me being who I am at heart; a little girl.
My bunny’s name is Fluffy by the way and I also own a Smurf called Snowman. And when I’m having down days or I’m a bit lonely or I’m scared of all the monsters created by my overactive and very vivid imagination I like to cuddle them.
Every weekend I watch or read at least one of my favourite fairytales or I dive in for a little magical adventure from Blyton. I will always be this little girl; I will always enjoy the magic I discovered at 4 and 5. And I most definitely will never stop defending old St Nick.
My childhood will never end. I’ll live mine until I have children and then I’ll share their magic and the magic of my grandchildren too. Life’s happiness is all about believing in a little bit of magic and learning how to keep it alive in ourselves. Don’t be afraid to be that little boy or girl who is still there somewhere in your heart. (srh.midnight@gmail.com)
