Kids in Nicaragua don’t know about the man in the moon, and don’t waste time on fake things like that. Perhaps not all Nicaraguans, but at least those in the village where my friend Shannon is living. They see the moon as a bearer of light, not something full of mystery and magic.
I’m not sure where the man in the moon lore came from, but it’s something we all know, something we all believed in at one point or another, just like the idea that the moon was made of cheese. Sure, ridiculous, but it’s the unknown that’s exciting, right? The fact that we don’t know makes the impossible almost possible. It’s like never seeing Santa Claus, but always believing in him. Believing in the magic behind him.
Of course, we grow up and learn the truth about Santa and the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. We stop pretending to be princesses and knights and instead become more invested in our own lives. But even as the man in the moon drifted in the background, I still dreamt, I still believed. I still daydreamed the days away. I still wondered what was on other planets. I still believed that my iPod knew exactly what song to play at all times. Because the unexplained is much more fun. And sometimes it’s okay to not know the whys and why nots.
If there’s anything i’d like to impart on my unborn child, it’s just that – always believe. Never get too old for magic. Always see the scariness in an abandoned, haunted building. Always think that if you concentrate hard enough you might be able to move the remote control with your mind. Think about lifting your arms up and flying away. Believe that the song on the radio was written just for you. Get lost in a fictional world only read about in books.
It’s easy, as time goes on, to lose that childlike wonder when looking at the sky. But keep it alive. Find the extraordinary in the ordinary. And never think it childish.
Isn’t it wonderful to have a man in the moon?
And isn’t it sad to not see it anymore?