The Girl Who Never Grew Up

My favorite story in all the realms of time and space is Peter Pan.  I was first introduced to the adventures of Neverland as a two year old, when my parents took me to see the broadway adaptation of Peter Pan From the moment the curtains were drawn, I was hooked.  I was carried away to a world of stories and imagination, a world in which childhood never dies.  I would lay awake at night, devising adventures in my head: my own adventures with the boy who never grew up and Wendy and John and Michael and the Lost Boys.  At the time, it was my favorite game, my playground from heaven.  My imagination was my sanctuary.  It wasn’t until much later that I realized the significance of the time I spent in Neverland.  That time brought me to writing and astronomy, my two greatest passions today.  

As a little girl, my grammatically traumatized words tumbled onto any surface I could find.  I wanted to share my adventures with the world, the adventures with my special imaginary friends.  I wanted to share the fun of battling pirates, flying everywhere I wanted, and forever being a kid.  Those adventures brought me to the second star to the right and beyond.  It lead my imagination to far away kingdoms and lightning fish glistening in the oceans above my head.  It lead me to myself and my destiny.  Of course, I have changed tremendously since the day those curtains opened, unfortunately having broken my pact to never grow up.  Still, even as my college career commences, I owe my dreams to the child that walks within me, the child who is still in love with Peter Pan.



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