It is a little known fact that as you grow up, you lose the magic inside of you. Most people realized it when they become adults, the sense that something is missing, or nostalgia for easier times.

Now I said that people loose the magic inside them, and that's not quite right. The magic doesn't suddenly disappear as childhood ends and adolescence begins. Many people hold on to that magic through puberty and into their teenage years. And it's not something that changes quickly, but rather something that gradually slips away from us as we grow up. If we tried, if we were aware, we could hold onto it, but most of the time it fades away so quietly, it's only when we're adults that we notice it's gone.

What would the world be like, I wonder, if every child managed to hold on to their magic, even just the tiniest shard. I cannot say for certain, but I think that as the next generation became our adults, in charge of world affairs, the world would become a better place. Each age of children that manages to hold that magic, that awe of living, and love of all things would see less war, less conflict and fewer problems. If everyone had magic in them, the ability to imagine and befriend, many of the world's problems wouldn't seem so big, and could be overcome.

But children don't see those problems, and don't know of their magic until it's too late, and has faded away. It's like children are angels with invisible wings. They can't use them because they don't know the full potential of wings. None of their adult role models have wings, so they never learn to fly. It's only when they've grown up that adults see the wings on their children, and go in search of their own, only to discover they have long lost the ability to fly.

I write this letter to you, my grand children, because I don't want you to have to grow up and search for your lost wings. I may not be able to teach you to fly, but if I can make you aware of your gift, your talents, and the ability to make the world a livable place once more.

****

Jessie carefully folded the well-worn paper, and put it back in the envelope. She had read the letter so many times, she was afraid it would rip every time she opened it. When she had first read it, so many years ago, she didn't understand all of it. One thing that had caught her fancy, though, was the idea that she had wings that no one else could see. Her brothers and cousins thought the idea was great, too, but as they came to realize the wings weren't real wings that would allow them to soar above the town, they forgot the notion.

As she grew, Jessie came to realize the wings and magic were metaphors but still made every effort to find ways to fly. She was said that the rest of her family had given up so easily on the idea, but knew that she did not want to become one searching for lost wings, and so she tried her hardest to hold on to the perspective and innocence childhood allows.

She stood, ready to take the podium, and tucked the letter back into her pocket. I've done it, grandpa. I've kept my wings. She stepped up before the world to deliver a groundbreaking proposal that would ease global economic and food concerns, based on the simple principles of sharing. Now it's time to fly.