We Believe in Fairies

You may recall from my belated 9/11 post that I made a decision that I've second-guessed for five years: I brought in the three older kids to see just one time the footage of the Twin Towers. They didn't see it over and over that day. Only once. As I mentioned in that post, only the eldest daughter remembers it, but she does seem to be somewhat affected. Maybe it was a mistake.

I normally shield them from quite a bit. My husband and I get our news from print or online sources, and if we watch it on TV, it's usually late at night when the children are sleeping. My tendency is to preserve innocence as long as possible. In fact, Saving Childhood, by Michael Medved, made quite an impression on me several years ago when I read it. Its subtitle reads: How to Protect Your Children from the National Assault on Innocence. That's what I tend to do--buffer the realities that could steal the joy and wonder of childhood. I use the word "buffer," because we don't drive around in an impenetrable bubble like the pope. My children will see and hear ugly, scary stories. They'll catch a segment on the news at someone's house and may see war footage or a kidnapping update. Sometimes they'll read a disturbing headline on the front page of the newspaper. They know that our 16-year-old friend has cancer. They attended my aunt's funeral.

But most of the time they construct wings out of cardboard and dream of flying. They spend a lot of time planning how to catch a rabbit under the boobytrapped shoebox baited with carrots. I encourage them to construct blanket tents in the living room, switching on flashlights to create a secret hideout. And I've been known to suggest that someone build twig-houses for the garden fairies.

I love this personal essay post. It captures beautifully this longing I have to stretch innocence out as long as possible.