As I sit here, nearly 35 years old, I realize that I still believe in magic. I still believe that there is something special about warm chocolate chip cookies. I still believe that a 2 year old's giggle inspires some kind of wonderful, somewhere in the world. I still believe that an 8 year old boy can find crazy amazement by playing in the leaves for 3 hours straight. I still believe that a 12 year tween has a glimmer in her eye, when she thinks of Christmas morning. I still believe that there is something enchanting about a softly falling snow...something so fascinating and hypnotic...that I might consider staying awake 2 hours past my bedtime to view it.
Yes, I do still believe in magic. When I fear that the cynicism of this world has brought my feet closer to the ground, I just stop and think of the magical things in my life. Then, I remember that my thoughts are supposed to be founded in whatsoever things are: true, honest, just, pure, lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things. "Magical" times of life...are lovely. We have to stop and be thankful for them, and ponder them, lest we loose our twinkle and end up like the grandpa from grumpy old men. I want to forever be like Ariel from the Little Mermaid. Captivated by new discoveries and adventure!