There Are Few Joys To

It Is So Easy For Your People To Forget That Everything Has A Spirit, That All Are Equal. That Magic And Mystery Are A Part Of Your Lives, Not Something To Store Away In A Child's Bedroom, Or To Use As An Escape From Your Lives.

How Hard Would It Be To Ask Children What They See In Their Heads? How Big Should The House Be In Comparison To The Family Standing In Front Of It? What Is It About The Anatomy Of The People That Doesn't Look Right? Then Let Them Try It Again. Teach Them To Learn How To See And Ask Questions.

I Do Believe In An Everyday Sort Of Magic -- The Inexplicable Connectedness We Sometimes Experience With Places, People, Works Of Art And The Like; The Eerie Appropriateness Of Moments Of Synchronicity; The Whispered Voice, The Hidden Presence, When We Think We're Alone.

Most Times We Only See Things For The Way We Are. But We're Good At Lying To Ourselves. Sometimes We Need Somebody Who's Not Living In Our Skin To Point Out How Things Really Are.

Our Lives Are Stories, And The Stories We Have To Give To Each Other Are The Most Important. No One Has A Story Too Small And All Are Of Equal Stature. We Each Tell Them In Different Ways, Through Different Mediums—and If We Care About Each Other, We'll Take The Time To Listen.