When I was little I believed Christmas time was magic time. The angels would save the Little Match Girl and she wouldn’t really die in the street as the unaffected people walked by her. And the little boys, like Tiny Tim, would receive help from an unexpected source.
The stories were written with kindness and heart that only come from surviving such experiences first hand.
I don’t believe anyone should suffer- but I also wonder if all the over indulgence of the modern world doesn’t lead to apathy?
When my children were little, it broke my heart when I couldn’t grant their every wish. Now that I see what wonderful, thoughtful adults they’ve become, they are a blessing that no five minute excitement over an expensive toy could ever give.
Maybe the magic is in the thoughts, the heart of the individual, who gives with love, all that they can, even if it seems to be inadequate. Maybe just the love is all that is needed, for the magic to be real.