a place where children grow wings


There is a place.

A magical place.

A place where children grow wings.

It sits on a tiny spit of land in the middle of the Sea – on a bandstand overlooking a park overlooking the sand overlooking that sea.

It is a place where imagination is King and children are chomping crocodiles and lumbering, stomping dinosaurs and monkeys swinging from vine to vine.

It’s a place where they are last-second game-winning baseball players and brave astronauts and beautiful, spinning ballerinas.

It’s a place where the ground is hot, hot sand and then wavy, mermaid-inhabited ocean, then just as quickly, dense, wet, sticky jungle. Then, with a switch of the CD, it’s a dark, thick forest and then a ride on an eagle’s back to a cool, clear mountain top. Until blast off, of course, when it becomes the farthest reaches of outer space.

It is a place with no limits.

It is a place where children are free.

It is a place where there is never, ever a hint of judgement.

It is a place overflowing with acceptance. No, not acceptance, celebration. And respect. And love. And light. And warmth. And gratitude.

It is a place where joy mingles with peace and things – incredible things – happen.

It is a place where an eleven year-old girl can still dance with five year-olds and not care who’s watching because ‘it would be wonderful if you could stay to help the younger kids. Ya know, if you’d like to.’ 

It’s a place where her autistic sister is engaged, alive, open, happy, and deliciously FREE. It is a place – the place – where she is more fully herself than anywhere else on Earth.

It is a place where a mother runs with a camera, zig-zagging across the stage in a frenzy, darting in and out of children moving this way and that, dodging arms stretched to the sky and legs kicking pretend soccer balls, determined to capture precious moment after precious moment. A place where she takes pictures to convince herself that that much joy was real. Because she knows she’ll need to remind herself later that it is possible.

Because of a woman, an amazing woman, a dance therapist by training and a pure, beautiful, generous spirit by nature, who has dedicated her life to sharing the sheer joy of movement with kids like mine …

There is a place.

A magical place.

A place where children grow wings.

Thank you, Miss Marjory.

Thank you.


Ed Note: For more information on the incredible lady who brings this magical place to life, click HERE

22 thoughts on “a place where children grow wings

  1. Jess, I felt so much joy from simply reading your post, but to have been right there, wow! Pure bliss!

    I love reading what you take the time to share with me… us… It is always insightful, and has opened my eyes to a world I never really knew existed, and a cause I feel we can all champion in our everyday. Thank you X

  2. Thank you for sharing that! Your girls are just too beautiful for words! All our kids should have a place where they feel so free!

  3. Brooke’s eyes clearly see things that the rest of us dont. You can almost feel her thoughts. And I know you may not want to hear this but, Katie is turning into a young woman. Glad you had a magical day!!!!

  4. I’ve never cried so hard with a smile on my face. Loved every second of it. After I stop blubbering I’m going to have to watch again to see what the tears made me miss. Thank you for making my day. I needed that…

  5. Thank you for this wonderful gift, Jess. And thank you for bringing your beautiful family and all of your magic onto the bandstand and into my life.

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