“Once upon a time…” those iconic words seem to take you to a place that is filled with both familiarity and innocence. As a young child, I can remember being told with fairytales, and they used to always begin with those four magical words. What came after those iconic words would differ, but nonetheless each story told would give me the same feelings: awe, wonder, and hope.
My first memories of these fairytales involve my aunt telling me bedtime stories that would begin with those four magical words. My mom used to commute to work and would also work late nights, so I would stay with my aunt until my mom came to pick me up. I would always get ready for bedtime and my aunt would pull out a different book each night to read to me. I would always love hearing these stories, and as soon as she had finished the story I would always ask for another one. Now, as a 20 year old, I rarely hear these types of stories and I almost even forgot about them entirely. Life is now filled with scholarly articles, news reports, and fact-packed essays. I have become accustomed to reaching for non-fiction books and straying away from fairytales. As I read through anything, my mind now automatically searches for the facts and any important pieces to take away from the reading.
I am at a time in my life where fairytales aren’t as special as they used to be; the magic has faded. C.S. Lewis brings about an important point, saying “someday you will be old enough to start reading fairytales again,” which is something that I whole-heartedly agree with. Soon enough, when I have children of my own, fairytales will come back to life and will become special again. These “once upon a time” stories will be a large part of their lives. The magic will come back, and those feelings of wonder and excitement will too.












