This time of year I think a lot.
I think of times long, long, ago when I was a child. The child I was once is still here. She is young and innocent and believes in magic. She believes in a world of peace and happiness. She believes in love and happily ever after fairy tales.
She believes that the world is not all bad, because for every dark shadow there are a hundreds rays of sunshine. There is good in nature, good in people, good in the world.
She watches the sun rise every morning and never tires of the beauty in each and every day. She knows that living today will bring yet another tomorrow to be filled with life.
“Know you what it is to be a child? It is to be something very different from the man of to-day. It is to believe in love, to believe in loveliness, to believe in belief; it is to be so little that the elves can reach to whisper in your ear; it is to turn pumpkins into coaches, and mice into horses, lowness into loftiness, and nothing into everything." -Francis Thompson
The Girasole Lady
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