It has happened. My youngest daughter knows that mom and I are Santa, Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny.
But not by me. I officially have never ended the magic of childhood. Last night my youngest daughter (11 years-old) asked my wife about it. And mom confirmed what my daughter had figured out. Ironically because the Tooth Fairy has been inconsistent.
Ironically, two nights ago my youngest daughter asked me about the Easter Bunny. About how we knew who’s eggs were whose. I said I received a magical letter that had the instructions. She asked to see the letter. I said it dissolved into magical pieces once I read it. She thought that was cool.
But as we grow older, the magic of life seems to dissolve into dust and we can’t get it back. Last night, mom informed our daughter that I still believed. My daughter asked my wife not to tell me that she knew the truth.
The magic of believing… in joyful expressions.
I still believe in Santa, in the Easter Bunny, in the magic of the idea that life should be joyful. For my consistent readers, you know I believe in expressing our love to others everyday. But there is a deeper joyful feeling in believing in the magic of this life. Of childhood, of receiving a gift, or hidden eggs, simply because you are you.
So, even though all my children know that I am Santa, I still believe…
It is all Connected 