As I ascended the stairs to bid my child goodnight, I found her in tears. Alarmed, I inquired, “What’s wrong?” My mind raced with possibilities—had she been hurt, or perhaps was she upset by those distressing animal welfare videos?
“I saw you,” she sobbed, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “I saw you setting out the Easter Bunny things.” Her lower lip quivered, and a tear rolled down her cheek.
My heart sank. It was already 10 p.m., and I thought I had been discreet enough. Yes, my daughter, Emma, is nine and a bit of a night owl, but she usually stays tucked away in her room. This time, however, her curiosity had drawn her out. She must have heard the crinkling of bags or sensed my movements as I arranged the items. The specifics were irrelevant now—she had witnessed the magic being unveiled.
At this age, I recognize she is straddling the line between childhood and adolescence. Many of her peers have already dismissed the fantasy of Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. Yet, Emma still chooses to believe. Or perhaps she wants to believe, caught in the delicate balance of innocence and growing up.
I stood frozen in her room, deliberating my next move. Should I reveal the truth, or could I preserve this magic a little while longer? “The Easter Bunny can’t be everywhere at once,” I found myself saying, wishing to extend this enchanting phase of her life. From the look in her eyes, I sensed she was not ready to let go either. “Sometimes, parents lend a hand.”
There was a pause. I braced myself for her reaction, fearing she might call me out on the deception. Instead, understanding flickered across her face. “So that’s why I see the same things in my basket from Target,” she said, nodding slightly.
“Yes,” I replied, relieved. I sat beside her as she nestled into my lap, resting her head on my shoulder. I often wonder how long she will seek comfort this way. I treasure these moments, knowing they could soon fade into memory.
Some may argue that I should have been honest with her. When discussing this with friends, several mentioned that their kids stopped believing in the Easter Bunny at six. Perhaps they are right, but I wish to hold onto this magic for just a while longer, as I am aware of the challenges looming ahead: friendship issues, boy troubles, and the everyday dilemmas of growing up.
Yes, there is still time for wonder. I cherish that Emma still believes she can fly with an umbrella like Mary Poppins. I smile knowing she imagines herself as a character from her favorite movies. I find joy in her faith that her stuffed animals share our feelings and enjoy the same meals we do.
One day, she will come to terms with the realities behind the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus. One day, her cherished costumes and toys may find their way into storage. But that day is not today.
And for that, I am grateful.
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In summary, the magic of childhood is fleeting, yet precious. As children navigate the transition from innocence to awareness, it’s essential to embrace and sustain the wonder for as long as possible.
Keyphrase: Magic of Childhood
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