Where is the pixie dust?
Published 9:59 am Tuesday, March 10, 2026
On March 8, 1955, the musical “Peter Pan”, starring Mary Martin, was broadcast live across America. It attracted a then-record 65 million viewers. This was an astounding number considering only 3/4 of a million American homes had television, roughly half of the American homes. I watched the live performances in 1955 and 56, and then the color videotaped version produced in 1960 and re-aired in 1963, 1966, and 1973. I was thrilled to watch the 1973 performance with my two children.
One thing that stood out in the original Peter Pan play was the Old English Sheepdog, Nana. Nana was the giant, shaggy dog who acted as the Darling family’s nursemaid. I begged my parents for a sheepdog, but Mama wouldn’t allow a 100-pound dog in her house. So when I married and had a house of my own, I begged my husband to get a sheepie. Nope…he wasn’t up for a house full of fur either.
Years passed and I was blessed with grandchildren. I still loved the theater and live performances, and for many years, I held season tickets to Broadway Nights at the Opera House. I purchased two seats for each season, and for every performance, I took one grandchild. I wanted them to experience the arts that gave me so much pleasure. The girls and I saw CATS, Hairspray, Big River, A Chorus Line, and many more. And then my grandson, Tyler, came along. When he was 7, I took him to see Cathy Rigby (renowned gymnast) as Peter Pan.
I just knew my grandson would be as mesmerized by Peter Pan as I had been as a child (and still am today). Early in the first act, Nana appeared. I whispered to my grandson that I planned to get myself an Old English Sheepdog, now that I lived alone. He rolled his eyes and commented, ‘It’s just a guy in a costume.’
When TinkerBell swallowed poison to save Peter Pan, I joined the audience in hearty applause to bring Tink back to life, because Peter said that only if people believed in fairies could she survive. I clapped louder.
And then in Act III, Peter Pan (aka Cathy Rigby) leapt from the apron of the stage and flew all the way to the third balcony. I audibly gasped. Everyone was on their feet, cheering as Peter sprinkled pixie dust on us. Tyler was embarrassed by my zealous enthusiasm and brought my arm down to my side, pointing out for all to hear that ‘I can see the wires!’
I was a bit deflated after that declaration, but I had secured backstage passes. Surely, meeting Cathy Rigby in person would impress my grandson. He walked to the table where Ms. Rigby was signing autographs, and I introduced him. He shook her hand and then proceeded to whisper to her that she had something black on her face. Politely, she explained it was makeup to accentuate her cheekbones. Ty shrugged, said ‘Thanks for the picture’ and we left.
The following year, when Tyler was 8 and very much into horses, I had a friend who was an equine trainer and performer bring his horses to the school on Ty’s birthday and perform for the 4th grade. Finally, I scored big points in the Cool Nana category, but I’m disappointed that it is so difficult to impress children these days.
Thinking back, there were so many fairytales and myths for a child to fantasize about… until the Millennials. It was easy for a parent or grandparent to convince them of the magic and wonders because we were their role models, and they respected us.
I guess now, some look at stories of Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny as untruths and being dishonest to our children, but I see it as allowing them to explore the creativity that lives within all of us… to imagine and to be children for as long as they can, before the reality of the harsh world invades their dreamlife.
I recall every roadtrip we took when my kids were little. Their father would spot a road sign that said ‘Watch for Falling Rock,’ and he would point it out at which time I would recite a story about a beautiful Indian princess named Falling Rock who had gone in search of her one true love, and nobody had seen her since. The kids would search the hills and valleys we passed for hours, looking for the missing princess.
Some stories were told as little white lies to prevent the children from possible harm. Just a few such well-intentioned misnomers were ‘If you swallow watermelon seeds, a watermelon grows in your tummy.’ Or ‘If you swallow your gum, it will stick your insides together.’ And my personal oft-quoted favorites, ‘If you cross your eyes or make that face again, it’ll freeze that way forever.’
It saddens me when a kindergartner or first grader stops believing in Santa, because that signals the beginning of the end of childhood fantasies.
It saddens me even more to see how many children, adolescents, and teenagers no longer have role models to look up to and how they no longer respect any authority figure.
Once innocence is lost, it can never be regained; however, as adults, we can certainly give more serious consideration to the kind of example we set for future generations. We can do so, first and foremost, by how we show respect for others in both the language we use and the acts of kindness and consideration with which we interact with those around us.
I will go one step further…we must be mindful of whom we give roles of leadership. Whether it is stricter vetting of educators, children’s caretakers and group leaders, or political leaders, the youth of today and tomorrow must have models who are well-educated and knowledgeable in the field they represent. They must realize the impact their words and performance have on the youth who look to them for guidance. And above all, they must be able to rely on the absolute honesty and integrity of those guiding them into adulthood.
