In Fantasyland Among The Stars With Peter Pan

              Flipping through old family photo albums. Of course the smiling and crying faces of my sisters and myself are more than enough to make me swoon and coo over how adorable we were. I become reminiscent of life as a young child, something so easy, with no worries of the looming future. Then there it is, the picture of my first trip to the place where dreams come true. I was at such a young age, I have absolutely no recollection of the momentous day that started it all. The day that I was brought in my mother's arms through the gates of Cinderella's magical castle to Fantasyland. Only months after I was born, my mother held onto my diaper bag, shoes, and my body desperately as I was brought into the wonderful world of lights and music as little children serenaded my young mind with "It's A Small World After All". My father consoled my screaming and wailing when they wanted me to hug a giant mouse in a tuxedo.
               Two years old, now I have a somewhat recollection of where I am. The blue, pink, and white castle is vaguely familiar. I've seen Mickey Mouse on the glowing box mommy and daddy play for me sometimes. I can clap and make noise along with the smiling faces of the skilled workers performing in the Beauty and the Beast show. Five years old. I'm itching to jump out of my stroller and attack Minnie and Mickey with hugs and kisses. Now as I drive up the road to the gates of the Magic Kingdom, I know exactly where we are and what's ahead of me. I would hide my face in the midst of the Pirates of the Caribbean ride, the explosions of the "bombs" in the water scared me to death. The Haunted Mansion was still a ride I refused to even attempt.
                Nine years old. I know all of the songs and movies by heart. We have a set order of what rides we do, and how many rides each attraction requires. I'm brave and can do anything. The first to attempt Tower of Terror. While it scared me more than I could even imagine, I felt so grown up going on the scariest ride in the park. Twelve years old. Riding each of the roller coasters numerous times became a requirement. The classics of Fantasyland were of course a must as well. The World Showcase still bored me. Hours spent wandering the shops of "Japan" and "Norway". I was in Disney for the thrill of speed, thus the loud music and loop-de-loops of Rock 'N' Roller Coaster obsession began.
               Fifteen years old. I have a greater and greater appreciation for the parks. Each attraction is another visit from my lovely childhood. Smiling and having pleasant conversation with the characters was the best. While roller coaster thrills is still great, what I really want is the feeling I encounter when I ride the old classics. Heffalumps and Woozles of Pooh's Hunny Hunt is what a love. But what's the best feeling of all? For most it would be hard to pick a favorite right off of the bat when there is so much magic to choose from. The childlike whimsy of Fantasyland. The innovative futuristic take on the world in Epcot and Tomorrowland. The mystery and chilling feelings of Tower of Terror or Haunted Mansion. Eating Norwegian lefse and waffles, British fish 'n' chips, Japanese sushi, and Italian gelato without leaving Orlando. Even smiling beside Mickey Mouse. No, none of this is the magical moment to me.
               A hot summer morning. The first day of the Disney vacation. I've waited an entire year for this moment. The entrance to Magic Kingdom. Five minutes until they open. Shade is no where to be found. Fighting our way to the ropes blocking off the real world to the entrance of a fairy tale. We hear a train whistle. On board are the classic Disney characters, along with singers and dancers to begin the Welcome show. They perform their show with a medley of Disney Classics, the Trolley Song, and more. Until it's here. Just ten seconds to opening the park. Five seconds. Employees are armed and ready to release the eager crowd. "FOUR!" I can see the castle in the distance. "THREE!"  My family and I are ready to sprint towards Fantasyland. "TWO!" My camera is on and ready to snap shots of every piece of the park I can. "ONE!" We're in, and the music is playing down Main Street U.S.A., and I know that something magical is about to happen. That's the best part for me.
               Sixteen years old. Who's to say?