We spent a few moments paused in the middle of the Holiday excitement downtown when my daughter looked up and asked if I had a penny for the fountain. Not the type of person to be superstitious, but also not the type to dash my daughter’s hope that a penny could grant what she wanted, I willingly complied.
My little girl closes her eyes when she wishes. It’s a silent prayer that you can see from the furrows in her forehead and tightly clenched fists that she is taking wishing, incredibly seriously. The prayer ends not with an, “amen,” but with a very hard blow from two, rosebud, lips. Mental wishes are always dandelions to her and as she blew at the end, it signified that the mental seeds would carry her desire far away to be fulfilled.
I watched her blow as her face lit up suddenly. I asked her what I always asked her, “What did you wish for?” She replied like she always replied, “I can’t tell you or it won’t come true.” I usually shrugged off her response, but this time I saw the longing in her eyes. I asked her again, but she only stomped her foot and pouted. How could I make this wish come true without knowing exactly what it was?
We had done it all wrong. All of us. All the storybooks and the fables. All the passed down anecdotes and lessons. A wish isn’t meant to be kept to yourself. Magic doesn’t exist in the traditional sense of the word. Wishes are meant to be shared, acknowledged and worked towards. I explained to Ava softly, “Please tell me, so I can help you make it come true.” And I will, when I can fix this horribly, annoying, habit of being allergic to what she wished for: a baby bunny.
If you have a wish, you should share it. You should proclaim it as yours and not hide behind magic or superstition to make it happen. Social Media gives you a platform to speak on your wishes and help determine the fate of others’ wishes. If we were doing all this correctly, imagine how many less pennies would be in fountains and how much more could be given towards those that truly need it.
We don’t throw pennies in fountains anymore, but we now share our wishes openly. My daughter still had that sparkle in her eye becuase she knows, if it’s in my power, I’ll make it come true, or teach her to create her own magic.
We are all the guardians of each other’s wishes. When oh when, will re realize that it’s not our secrets that make us powerful, but our community and connections?