Writer’s Corner: ‘I Believe In Magic’

It was an innocent time growing up in the ‘50s. My parents sheltered me from realities of the world; politics, wars, viruses and finances. It was just as well, because I had no interest in adult conversations. I preferred spending my time investigating the magic of childhood. And, I do mean literally. I was convinced magic was entirely possible, and I set out to prove it. Ultimately, I was right.

Walt Disney’s wonderful fantasies hugely influenced my imagination. I was quite certain animals could talk, carpets could fly, genies lived in lamps and fairies were real. Leprechauns could surely be found dancing under rainbows in my backyard. I merely needed to be quick enough to catch one before it disappeared. Unfortunately, I was slow.

Being an only child, I adored my rescue dog, Queenie. She was my parents’ attempt to make-up for my lack of siblings. I was certain she would speak to me, if only I could convince her. After all, Mr. Ed, the famous talking horse, had plenty to say. My Queenie was too clever. She tried training me to speak “dog,” instead.

The floors in our house were hardwood, and my mother covered them with a variety of throw-rugs. I knew absolutely, somewhere among them, lay a magic carpet. I spent hours sitting cross-legged on each “carpet,” reciting every incantation that came to mind, including the standard “abracadabra.” If only I had known the precise magic words ...

However, no magic words were required to coax a genie out of a magic lamp, only a little polishing. It should’ve been simple. But not all lamps, house genies. I tried rubbing my mother’s teapots, pitchers and gravy boats because, you just never know. Alas, we didn’t have the good fortune of a resident genie.

Fairies were another matter. Two friends and I created a “fairy club,” sharing fairy encounters and stories until we had no doubt, they existed. They’re elusive creatures, but are sometimes caught out of the corner of an eye. Fairies live in flowers, especially roses. Always on the look-out, I only glimpsed them flitting from one bloom to another. I never saw them clearly; only their fluttering wings from a distance. Grown-ups insisted they were butterflies or bees, but I knew better.

Today, I not only believe magic is real, I have solid evidence. It may not be the magic of my childhood, but it’s real magic, nonetheless. In fact, it’s far more amazing to me than anything I believed as a child.

A voice floating in the air awoke me this morning. She reminded me of my appointment today and told me the weather. She’s my little magic dot, Alexa. I can ask her to turn on my television. Hundreds of movies are accessible via magical radio waves.

I climb into my Subaru magic carpet, and program GPS to find the best route to my appointment. This is nothing short of magic for a person such as I; always lost in my own backyard.

However, the best magic of all, is tracking my grandkids’ airplane flight to Scotland across my computer’s screen. Then, via video messaging, I see their faces as they chat with me while riding a train to London.

And you thought magic wasn’t real! What’s more magical than that?

Writer’s tip: Words are their own kind of magic. Let your magic flow.

Writer’s bio: Suzy Garner loves the magic of childhood and is in the process of publishing a middle grade novel written in magical realism. Do you believe in magic? Share your magic with her at artist4words@gmail.com.

Sturgis Writers’ Mill exists to create a community of writers who constructively encourage, support and challenge each other as they discover their unique voices. Any opinion expressed is solely that of the author.

This article originally appeared on Sturgis Journal: Writer’s Corner: ‘I Believe In Magic’