Post Examples of 'Magic', From Your Childhood...

It may sound strange to some of you, and you may find it hard to believe. But I could sometimes do magic, as a child. Seriously.

I’ll give you all just a couple of examples (because believe me, there are many, from my childhood at least).

When I visited my grandfather, I would want to find this neighborhood cat, to play with him. He was always hiding in the front yard of one of the houses on my grandfather’s block. But I never knew which. Anyways, I would do this special ritual. And it worked every time! Again, I’m serious.

This next one will really surprise you. When I would flip a coin as a child, it would always come up whatever side was upside in my hand. It’s true. I thought at the time this was no accident, because I thought that was just the way it worked (I was very naïve as a child :wink: ). Anyways, finally one day, my friend from across the street, “Danny”, made me a wager. I could have his 50¢ piece, if I could win a coin toss. The only stipulation was, he could toss it as many times as he wanted. Well, he tossed it, and I won every time, using the method I just described above. He was understandably flustered, until I explained it to him. He let me down, though, by explaining to me, why my assumptions were basically false. And the phenomenon ceased, after that. But can you imagine how many times this happened to me, before I found out? It boggles the mind, doesn’t it?

Also, once in high school, on Easter Sunday, I was listening to the radio. And every time I thought of it, the song Nice Girls, by Melissa Manchester came on. I didn’t miss it once, and I did it quite a few times, I know.

With that last one, I might have just been anticipating the time elapsed between each playing of the song. But still, it is kind of weird, I think.

Yeah, childhood is a magic time. You feel scared, and even terrified, in an uncertain world, you have no control of. So as a child, you use rituals, to appease the Fates. And sometimes it works! Now, as people get older, I think they sometimes fail to see the magic in the world. It’s kind of sad, when you think about it.

Do any of the rest of you have examples of what I am talking about, from your childhoods? Please take the time to post them now.

:):):):slight_smile:

For one brief moment, when I was four, & running…I flew.

About 18 feet.

That’s a damn good long jump for a 4 yr old. I didn’t jump 18’ until my sophomore year of high school. Unless you mean 18’ down.

I found out that hairspray is magically flammable.

When I was a kid I could never fall asleep if I was too anxious about something. Of course that meant a very restless night every Christmas Eve. In the dead of winter with everyone asleep I’d sit and listen and eventually hear jingle bells in the distance. Not long after I would eventually hear thuds above me coming from the roof. My heart would pound and I’d start to sweat. After the adrenaline rush I’d fall asleep pretty quickly. Once I found out the truth about Santa I asked my parents what it was I was hearing for the past few years. They thought I was nuts.

Not quite magic, but my uncle pranked me good as a child. He convinced me that by stepping on a grate in front of his house, he could open and close his garage door. He demonstrated this for me several times and I was completely taken in.

It was years before I realized that he just had his garage door opener in his pocket and was pushing it every time somebody stepped on the grate.

My maternal grandparents in Arkansas had this white, ceramic chicken on a nest that opened. The hen was the lid, the nest the bowl. It used to lay coins for me. Nickels usually, but sometimes dimes and even – gasp! – the occasional quarter or two. Sometimes when I was in the next room, I could even hear the clink of the coins hitting.

Due to my near-magical ability to be nimble, I never once stepped on a crack in the sidewalk. As a result, my mother never experienced any back breakage. :smiley:

My grandparents had a pair of hens of that same species. Sadly, theirs weren’t nearly as talented.

(That is an absolutely charming story - and what wonderful magic for a child!)

I remember that my dad could make the stoplight change to green. He’d reach up, glance over at me, and then… snap his fingers. Boom! Green stoplight.

Magic.

I can’t remember much anything like what the OP describes, though I’m sure I did stuff like that.

Yes, and I think that recognition of those moments are beaten out of us by a … what? mechanistic? … world definition.

My mother, a sister, and I all had a little talent; my father and my other sister were firmly in the “co-incidence” camp.

I would know what people were about to say occasionally; never anything important, but also never predictable - I’d know someone in a family of coffee drinkers was about to make a cup of tea and offer to make one for everyone. My mother knew when something bad happened to a family member. My sister knew where people were.

When I was small, I had the magical ability of being at the front door whenever my parents opened it to call me in from playing for the night. It used to spook my dad, but I’m pretty sure I either saw them through the windows approaching the door or heard them. It couldn’t really be magic, right?

I thought I had ESP because I could usually guess what we were going to have for lunch at school.

My dad could snatch my nose off my face, until I begged him to give it back.

My son while growing up riding in the back seat of my car would always watch my driving intensely and ask questions about what everything on the drving console was.
He must have asked one time what the turn signals were and I must have given an off-hand answer of “Those are turn signals for when we turn left or right”.
After observing my driving for another week he hit me with his follow up question.
“Dad?”
“Yeah.”
“How does the car know where you’re going?”
“What do you mean?”
“How does it tell you where to turn?”
“It doesn’t.”
“Yes, it does, those turn signals come on to tell you when to turn.”

He had no idea I was manually turning on the signals and thought they came on by themselves as a signal to the driver to make a turn.

And he went on to invent automotive GPS, right?

Nope.
Not down.
Up.
The length of the walk, & up six stairs.
And not jumping.
Flying.

I had the distinct impression of flight, with my feet skimming above the earth.

Childhood whimsy, yes, but the Thread is about “magic”.

On my 19th birthday, my boyfriend had gone to a high school reunion in LA, and left me all by myself. So I went to see a punk show in San Francisco, and had all kinds of adventures.

Late that night, I was walking down Ashbury towards Haight. It’s a pretty steep hill. I saw above me and to my right a red and white balloon with writing on it. You understand, it was a helium balloon, I was walking downhill, and it was floating maybe 10 feet above me. But I really wanted to see what it said, so I reached out my hand and willed that balloon to come down to me. And it did.

When I was a kid, we’d go to visit our relatives about an hour and a half from my house. I would usually fall asleep in the car.

I would always wake up when we drove by a certain road about two minutes from our house. We didn’t have to stop at the intersection, but something about it – maybe a bump in the road – brought me awake.