The Magic We Almost Miss

When I became a teacher, I thought that I’d be the one doing the teaching.

I imagined the lessons I would plan, the books we would read, the things I would help my students learn. And I did teach them. I taught them how to sound out a word, solve a problem, ask a question, to try again. But somewhere along the way, I realized that teaching went both ways. The children taught me, too.

If you want to know what happiness looks like, watch a child discover something wonderful. If you want honesty, ask a child what they think. They’ll tell you- sometimes with startling clarity, and sometimes with a kindness adults could learn from.

Children notice the things we hurry past. They can find an entire world in a puddle, magic in belief, and a reason to laugh in the face of monotony. They remind us that curiosity matters, that imagination deserves room, and that small joys aren’t really so small.

Growing up asks us to carry a lot. Somewhere in the middle of adult responsibilities, worries, and all of that, it can be easy to lose our sense of wonder. But I don’t think it disappears. I think it waits - in a story, in a question, in nature, or in the people who help us see something familiar in a new way. Sometimes we just need someone to remind us to look, and help us find our sense of wonder again.

That’s part of why I write stories; to make room for curiosity, laughter, and a little chaos. I hope that my books bring children joy, and maybe remind the grown-ups reading along that that the world is still full of things worth wondering about.

So this is my little corner for stories, sketches, wanderings, and whatever else catches my imagination. I’m glad you’re here. Let’s keep looking closely. There’s magic and whimsy all around us.