I am a believer in magic. Now, before you go setting the Christians on me, read me out. I am a believer in magic. Not the turn you into a toad kind of magic, although I could probably cast a mean spell when I get mad enough.
The magic I am referring to is my grandchildren. The magic look that comes into their eyes when they see or do something they haven’t seen or done before.
They are my second chance at magic. My children were the first. Santa Claus, tooth fairies, elves, ghosts, goblins all were daily parts of our magical lives. The fascination in a young child’s eyes when they catch a tadpole, a cricket or a roly-poly should awaken in all of us a sense of wonder. Yet, as we age, we become hardened to the magic children see everyday.
Once a year we take a family vacation. This means we pick a spot, courtesy of our time share, and we all converge. This year we went to Universal Studios, because we are all Harry Potter fans. Last year we went to Cabo San Lucas in Mexico, the year before that we spent one week in Disneyworld.
There are grand, wonderful moments when they all discover they can hang ten, as they stood on surf boards and rode waves during surf lessons in Daytona Beach this year. There are small, sweet discoveries when they tasted their first Shirley Temple poolside in Mexico. They felt very adult politely ordering the second one.
Yep, this does cost Ya-Ya (me) and Paw-Paw (hubby) a few bucks. No we don’t drive the newest model of anything. I have no jewelry worth thousands and we stay out of 5 star eating establishments. But it is worth every hour we work, every sacrifice we make.
There was a moment during the last few minutes of our trip to Disney World, the parade was winding down and the fireworks were going off over the castle. There stood all of my family looking upward, smiling and enjoying just being together. I will never forget it, it is what we live for as families, and I had it. I will hold the magic of that moment in my heart forever.
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