for kids, seem to promote fighting and conflict. You need look no further than the daily news for events that leave adults shaking their head in despair.
Also, I think my holiday hullabaloo is part of a yearning for the lost and lovely art of anticipation. Modern kids (and adults for that matter) wait for nothing. Movies and music are available instantly, whereas we waited months to watch The Grinch on TV and if you missed it, well, see you next year. But for Christmas, we all have to wait. The anticipation is delicious and can’t be rushed or fast-forwarded through, for a change.
So for a month or so, we are all about the magic. Food and drink is a little richer. Hugs last a little longer. Our home and our lives are transported, if only temporarily, to a time when we believed a single person (and a merry elf labor force) could make all the presents for the children of the world in a year, and then deliver them in one night. If that can happen, then anything is possible.
That advertisement, ironically, seems to incite more doubt than belief. You don’t question something when you already believe.
When you stop believing, I think a little part of you stops dreaming quite as big.
“Magic,” I tell him. “It’s the season of magic and they wanted you to remember that.”
“Of course,” he says. “Everyone knows magic is real.”
And we don’t need a sign to tell us that.