magical girl

I think she's made of magic. 

It breaks my heart to hear the big kids at the playground - the ones who've lost all of their wonder and magic already, even though they're still so young. I hear them tell her that there are no such things as fairies or magical wishing stars. That a pixie didn't kiss her belly when she was a baby and leave the red mark that sits just above her bellybutton to this very day. I want to go out and grab them, shake them, remind them that if they don't believe in magic, magic will never find them. They'll never see a pixie or have a wish granted by a shooting star or a flying dandelion. They'll never see the fairy doors hidden in all the trees surrounding the playground or hear the tinkling bells that ring when a fairy speaks. They're already adults. Tiny little adults. 

Scarlett still believes in all of it. She looks for leprechauns and makes a thousand wishes on every single dandelion and star she sees. She believes that her stuffed animals protect her at night and that her books hold magical stories. She knows that if you plant jellybeans on Easter, the'll grow overnight into a beautiful lollipop and that Santa loves cookies and milk and a nice handwritten note on Christmas Eve. She thinks it's amazing that the Easter Bunny knows to leave Easter eggs hidden at our house, her grandpa's house and at her Ma and Pa's house, too. She knows that all you need to do in order to make a new friend is ask for one - and I hope she never stops believing any of it. I pray that this world doesn't try to steal her sparkle and rob her of her wonder. I hope that she remembers that as long as you believe in magic, magic will believe in you and you will see it in everything around you. Magic will find her, as long as she keeps it with her. 

love & cupcakes,

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