"The great man is he who does not lose his child's heart." Mencius, Book IV

He's growing so big now. He knows the truth about Santa and the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. He writes everything in beautiful cursive. He does long division and simple algebra. He plays higher and higher levels in his piano and understands tetrachords, and other things that baffle me. But he is still so young, and inside, there is this HUGE imagination, for which I am thankful.
Wednesday night, he pulled a tooth on the way home from church and managed to drop it. We couldn't find it. He was almost hysterical.
"Here's what we'll do," I say. "Write the tooth fairy a letter!"
He sits down and composes a beautiful note to the Tooth Fairy, and the next morning, she has responded with kind understanding and an extra dollar because of his sadness. He is beside himself with joy. He cannot believe how much he is loved, and that she actually came and understood his plight!
And in the last seconds before his daddy whisks him out the door for school, he snuggles next to me on the couch, face freshly washed, hair combed and looking so manly and he whispers, "Thanks for being my tooth fairy!"
I hope that he can keep that wonder forever, though he knows the truth, in his imagination, he is able to see magic. And I am so thankful for that.









