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| Image credit: Photo by kippbakr on Flickr Licensed under Creative Commons |
"Whoa! How did he do that?!" my kids exclaimed as the magician we were watching lifted a cup to reveal that a small red rubber ball had been magically transformed into a bright yellow tennis ball.
My son Austen thought a moment and then exclaimed, "I know how he did it!"
"Uh, oh," I thought, "Austen is about to commit the ultimate magic faux pas and reveal the way the magician does his trick." After all, I'd seen the magician's hand go to his pocket some time back and while his hands were so extremely deft and quick that I hadn't actually been able to see the transfer of balls, I knew it had happened.
I'd learned to watch magicians carefully as a child after painstakingly saving my allowance money to buy a magic kit that claimed to transform pennies into dollars. At the time, it seemed like a wise and excellent investment. With this kit, I'd be able to transform future allowance earnings into one hundred times their original worth with a flick of my hand over this magic black box. I'd be able to buy whatever I wanted. I'd be set for life.
What a disappointment to find that the kit contained a box with a trick compartment. Insert a dollar into the false back of the box, put a penny in the front, close the box and reopen the trick compartment to reveal the hidden dollar. Ta da! As magician Doug Henning used to say, "Magic is illusion!"
But it turned out Austen hadn't seen illusion yet, only magic. "It was his magic wand!" he blurted out, "That's how he did it!" And as he said it, I felt an odd mixture of tenderness and disappointment. His world view wasn't sophisticated enough yet to recognize that there were other possibilities, and there was something adorable and poignant and heartbreaking in that all at once.
You never go for the obvious, do you? I was sure you were writing about the autism research that studied how some autistic children could figure out magic tricks, but nope you said something much more universal, yet very personal.
ReplyDeleteI'm kind of glad that most of my kids still believe in the magic wand--they have plenty of time to figure out the "tricks." I remember feeling disappointed when I figured out how my dad performed his family-famous magic tricks.
Poignant is exactly right. The bittersweet pleasure of watching our children grow.
ReplyDeleteI love magic shows & surprises. I never want to know exactly how tricks are done even though I know they are, in fact, tricks. I believe in fairies. I really do. I choose to believe in them and see fairy lights in the woods and point them out to the boys much to their delight; I don't want to live in a world in which fairies do not exist. Therefore, I clap often and heartily.
Austen was right. The magic wand is the soul of the magician's talent. Such an astute kid. A keeper. Every story you tell about him makes me love him even more, despite our never having met. He is enchanting.
"something adorable and poignant and heartbreaking in that all at once." Yes. Every once there is is this very once.
ReplyDeleteYes, it was like the time that I realized that there was no Santa. I still remember the disappointment.
ReplyDelete