The Magic of Childhood

I've always been enamored with children. I hung out in the nursery at church when I was 10. Begged my mom to babysitt until I was 12 and she finally gave in. I wave at them when I'm driving. I play with them across restaurants. I make faces at them when they stare at me in the grocery store. Or maybe enamored isn't the right word. Maybe I'm mystified.

Have you ever noticed what it is about children? They sparkle and shine with potential. Their innocence, their curiosity, their trust. Nothing is impossible to them because their world is so exciting. Learning the smallest thing is a wonder because it's all fresh and new. Nothing is ever irrelevant or useless. Nothing is inconsequential or routine. A prism that throws out a rainbow when it catches light, dandelions growing outside a classroom for the sole purpose of becoming the perfect wedding boquet for their teacher, bubbles that come from nothing but a wand and their own breath; kids don't take anything for granted. They want to know how and why things work but if they can't understand it and it can't be explained, it's okay. Because they'll justify it as magic. Things happen just because they do. Because we believe they will.

I just finished watching "Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium" and while I promise not to give it away, it tugged at the innermost stirrings of my heart. The Polar Express always chokes me up because the children learn to believe in magic and things unseen. Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory has been a favorite of mine for as long as I can remember because Charlie Bucket learns to believe in his own potential when nobody else would. As someone who's always "bought into" the magic of childhood, this proved to be no exception. Is it just that I haven't grown up and I'm still naive enough to play pretend? Or maybe, just maybe, is there something more? Could it be because I see that magic is just a reflection of faith?

I want to believe in toy stores that come to life. And I want to believe in magical trains that take children to the North Pole and back all in one night. I want to believe in the good in people and that whatever anyone tells me, however they explain things, is true. Because the child within me refuses to grow up. She refuses to believe that things have to be proved or explained to be trusted. My whole life revolves around this principle; magic - the impossible becoming possible - is real, and something to be totally trusted. Having faith in things that I can't understand - that things in my life will always work out no matter how confusing or impossible they seem at the time - is the only thing that keeps me going. Only to me, it's not just magic; it's faith in God. He is the magician who can turn everything around. He is the one who puts color in things that appear to be dull and lifeless. He is the one who can make anything happen. He's the one who puts magic into dandelions and bubbles and prisms. And it's Him, within us, who makes us sparkle and shine. God is constantly working his "magic" around us; we just have to have faith and believe in order to see it.

We believed in magic when we were kids. So it's inherently in us to be mystified by things that shouldn't logically be able to happen. But we've stopped looking and began to require an explanation of why. We dismiss dandelions as weeds and don't notice the rainbows that are splashed throughout the day. God is still demonstrating his "magic" to us, we just hardened our hearts to the simple things. We've stopped noticing, wondering and admiring. Even though she gets blocked by the have-to's and responsibilities of life, I'm so glad the child in me won't stop believing, won't stop having faith in the impossible, won't stop trusting and relying on a God that she just can't explain. Won't stop basing her life on that childlike faith.

"I don’t know why grownups don’t believe what they did when they were kids" says nine year old Eric at the beginning of the movie. "I mean, aren’t they supposed to be smarter?"