Finding Neverland

When I told Leroy that there would be an Easter egg hunt on the grounds after church, he offered to stand outside and wait for the Easter bunny to show up.

Leroy turned six and a half just before Easter, yet he still has a very sweet belief in magical creatures which I do nothing to talk him out of. For me, it's cute. For him, it's serious business. The magical critters bring him things.

Last Christmas he wanted to wait for Santa in the living room, and kept "hearing" him outside whenever he heard a noise. In February he went through a true crisis of faith when a cartoon character told him there was no Tooth Fairy when he'd just lost a tooth. I had to whip up a fancy desktop published letter from the Tooth Fairy herself, with dollar bill, to restore his soul. Before Easter he wanted to hunt down a leprechaun and demand some of his gold when he found out that St. Patrick's Day doesn't come with a gift (not counting the adult license to drink yourself stupid one day of the year).

So when do I tell him that these creatures don't exist? I don't. He finds that out for himself. He's already got his suspicions. When he wanted to hunt for the Easter bunny at his grandma's house after Easter dinner, Mom offered to put some eggs out for a second go 'round. "Daddy, is Mommy an Easter bunny?", he asked. No, but she can pretend she's one. He knows that some Christmas presents come from the store, because he had to buy some, and there were some for him under my brother's tree in Utah the Thanksgiving before.

But the notion that there are magical creatures out to do him good seems to reassure him, and why mess with that? It's a beautiful world to live in. We all remember that, and miss it, which is why "Lord of the Rings" and other fantasy does so well among ticket-buying adults. We remember what it was like to actually believe that fairies and elves were real.

Our gradual realization that there is no Santa Claus is part of growing up. We accept that the world consists of what we can see, hear and feel. We realize that it offers magic in other ways, through love, ambition and a game winning homer in the bottom of the 9th. We realize that we really don't need play magic. The real world can offer mystery enough.

Now, it's back to watching "The Magic School Bus" with Leroy. He wants me to buy a car like that, you know. I think I'll wait for the sale.