The universe is full of magical things, patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper. - Eden Phillpotts
Yesterday, my daughter and I (and grandma) watched the original Miracle on 34th Street. Though she didn't understand a great deal of it, she was terribly distressed that the little girl, Suzy, and her mother didn't believe in imagining. It wasn't that they didn't believe in Santa Claus that bothered her (DD still does), but that they didn't pretend in their minds.
She said emphatically, "How do they think I became a fairy princess?"
To be honest, I feel a bit the same way. Dreaming comes easy to me -- I can imagine all kinds of things, both good and bad. The curse and blessing of a rich imagination is that anything is possible.
From million dollar publishing contracts, and appearances on the Travel Channels "Ten Most Beautiful Houses" to serial killers and natural disasters ... they happen in my mind on a daily basis.
I don't understand people who can't imagine. I cultivate it with my daughter because if you can dream, you can do anything, be anything. It may take a little elbow grease, but if you don't believe it can happen, then it won't.
I remember a saying that went something like: Whether you believe you can, or you believe you can't, you're right.
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