Editorial and Opinion

Wishing for Neverland

By Gabrielle Stamile

“The fairies fly,”
Whispered one boy to the other.
“They race the butterflies against the wind,
Help the birds build nests to live in.”

“They go around the earth and change the seasons,”
Said the next boy,
“Summer blooms into Autumn red leaves,
The chilly wind swirls into ice crystal snow,
And the snow melts away into cool Spring rain.”

“And then the cycle begins again,
And another year passes,”
Most boys said together.

“Another year passes, and Pan still won’t come,”
Said the oldest of the orphan boys,
With anger shaking in his voice.

“No, he will come!” cried the baby of the lot,
“He’ll make us lost boys, you wait and see!”

“Well I’ve been here for years,
And he hasn’t come to see me!”
The eldest choked back tears as he yelled,
No one must see the pain he felt.

All boys were shaken but the youngest who just stared
And said, “I believe in Peter Pan, and Tinkerbell, and Neverland.”

The boys grew silent,
Then Big Ben chimed.
The bell rang in their ears,
And the boys looked outside and thought
“Tinkerbell.”

“She’ll come,” a hopeful boy said.
“Just look at the sky,
There seem to be more stars tonight.
They must be fairies glowing
To give us a wishful night.”

Each boy chose a star and closed his eyes
“I wish…,” thought one,
“I wish…,” thought another
“I believe,” the youngest said quietly.
“Please…please be true, Peter Pan,” hoped the oldest.

neverland

The boys opened their eyes,
Gave one last long look at the star-lit sky,
Then they wished each other goodnight.
Said their prayers,
And slipped into their beds.

One boy yawned, half asleep, “Maybe we’ll have to catch Pan’s shadow.”
“And then he’ll make us Lost Boys to show his thanks.”
“And Tinkerbell we’ll make us fly,
On golden fairy dust wings.”
“And we’ll fly away from here, never grow up,
And live fun adventures forever.”
“Like fighting pirates and crocodiles and finding buried treasure…”

The young boys fell asleep,
But the eldest was wide awake with tears streaming down his face.
He remembered his hopes of Peter coming,
Hoping to hear tinkling of bells and see his flying shadow,
But never did for years.

“Maybe…if I believe. I have to have faith, if not for myself,”
He thought of the other boys,
“Then for their sakes.”
He turned toward the window, closed his eyes, and whispered,
“I…I believe…in Peter Pan, and Tinkerbell, and Neverland.”

As he said this, some stars began to shift in the sky,
They were fairies illuminating light.
They flew behind a cloud that was shaped like a pirate ship,
And rested on a large, bright star.

They sang-song in a sort of lullaby,
And their laughs sounded like wind chimes.
The sound of their laughs was carried by the wind and echoed from the star,
Past Big Ben, and into the room of the orphan boys.
Each boy shook, now half-awake,
And saw the silhouette of a boy on the floor,
A shadow created by the shimmering moonlight coming from the window.

Each boy turned, eyes wide open, speechless.
The youngest jumped up and shook the eldest wide awake.
“It’s Peter Pan! He’s come to help us! I told you!”
“Yeah…he’s really here…”
The eldest said in happy disbelief.
And a little bright star flew in with golden dusted wings,
Making tinkling bells sounds as it moved about.
“It’s Tinkerbell! It’s Tinkerbell!”
Shouted all boys gleefully.
And as they spoke, they all began to rise,
Fairy dust gleaming in their eyes.

“Good work, Tink,” said Pan with a grin.
“Now come on everyone, we’ve got a long journey.”

“Where are we going?” asked the youngest, already knowing.
Peter smiled and said,
“To Neverland, second star to the right,
And straight on
‘Til morning.”

The boys followed Peter, as they flew over London,
And Tinkerbell followed, flying with the children.
The eldest reached Peter, and apologized for his anger
And thanked him for coming.
“You’re welcome,” Peter said,
“I heard your wish and knew this time you believed,
And knew it was time,
To save you and the boys.”
Peter glanced back at the orphanage he knew too well,
And remembered meeting Hook and Tinkerbell.
He smiled quietly to himself, hearing Tinkerbell fly,
And hearing the boys laugh—
Lost boys who know felt like they were found.

 

The image is credited to chasestarlit

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