What I Believe in
By Nina Awwad
I believe in Peter Pan, I believe in his story, in his magic. I believe in his Lost Boys, and
Tinkerbell. I believe in him so much, I think, because I understand him or maybe don’t understand him at all.
I think in reality that Pan both scares and excites me. In a sense he scares me because it
saddens me to know that he is alone. To know that he’ll never again know a mothers love: it
breaks my heart, but on the other hand he is so wild and free. He flies endlessly around and
around throughout his utopia. Regardless he is constantly up against a ruthless pirate called
Hook: Pan takes it as a game and defeats the pirate and his crew time and time again.
Subsequently Pan is free to roam the island at his will, and when and if he wants he crosses
over to our world. In our world- a place that he does not understand and maybe even hates or
envies a bit, he finds homes to look in on and one night he found Wendy’s.
Wendy, a girl I wish so very much I could be for a day. I believe that Wendy is brave and
intelligent- far more intelligent than me. Not to mention she caught Peters’ eye, and he took her
and her brothers on an adventure of a life time. Pan taught them how to fly and fight pirates and
in exchange Wendy told Pan and the Lost Boys stories and acted as a mother figure. I believe
that Wendy was a true heroine in her own sense. While her brothers forgot what their own mother was like, Wendy remembered. She soon realized that growing up doesn’t mean forgetting
what it is like to hold on to innocence, but to be held accountable for your actions. She later had
the strength to leave Pan and her dreamland behind for her responsibilities back in London.
I believe that growing up is equally matched as growing old. With growing up you will forget what it was like to wonder, to dream about wild things, and ‘impossible’ and ‘never’ become
a common phrase in your vocabulary. I believe that growing old means aching bones, and loss
of memories. I believe its wrinkles and sagging eyes. I believe it’s a sorrow unlike any other;
losing your youth is like watching everything you love die before your paralyzed body, too
numb, too unwilling, and too confused to move. Both growi