Snickerdoodles

It would be fun to be magic, Brett thought as he snuggled into his warm bed and dreamed of dancing bears and enchanted rabbits. He and his family had just returned from a trip to the circus. They had enjoyed the funny clowns, the animal acts, and the daring acrobats, but Brett thought that the magician was the best part of the evening. He had performed exciting tricks with hoops and ropes and had even pulled a rabbit out of an empty hat.

Brett was still daydreaming about magic the next morning during breakfast. “It’s a beautiful day,” Brett’s big brother, Ryan, said as he helped clear away the dishes. “Do you want to come with me for a walk through the meadow?”

Brett shook his head. “I’m going to try to make some magic of my own.” He went to his room and began searching in drawers, cubbyholes, and corners. He rummaged through his toy box and even peered under his bed. Now and then he would stuff something into his backpack. When it was full, he zipped it up. “There’s my magic kit,” he said. “Now all I need is a magic word. How about … snickerdoodles! They’re my favorite cookies, so it’s a word that’s sure to work magic.”

Sitting outside under the big oak tree, he began the test. He remembered Mom telling him often, “Brett, you need to put on your listening ears!” He reached into his magic kit and pulled out a sheet of pink paper and a pair of scissors. Carefully he cut out two very large ears and placed them over his own.

“Snickerdoodles!” Brett whispered with his eyes closed. “Now let’s see if these ears have any magic.”

He walked into the meadow by his house, then stopped suddenly as he began to hear wonderful things. Close by, a squirrel chattered, bees hummed, and a bird whistled a happy tune. Listening very carefully, Brett could even hear Mom singing as she worked in the kitchen.

“My listening ears are magic!” Brett shouted.

The day was beginning to get warm, so he slipped off his shoes and socks and put them on a big rock where he could find them later. “Snickerdoodles!” he said brightly as he continued his walk barefoot. “Let’s see what other magic I can make.”

The grass tickled his toes like a tiny forest. The uneven ground became mountains and valleys to his bare feet. “I’m a giant!” he said with a giggle. Suddenly he felt something cool and squishy, and when he looked down, he found that he was standing in mud.

Brett liked all the new feelings—especially the thick, creamy mud oozing up between his toes. “Even my feet are magic!” he decided.

Reaching into his magic kit, he took out some toy glasses with a big, funny nose attached. “Snickerdoodles! I bet that with these on I’ll be able to see some neat things and sniff all kinds of fantastic smells.”

Sure enough, he smelled something wonderful right away and looked up to see a cherry tree covered with snow-white blossoms. A flash of silver caught his eye, and he saw a brook splashing merrily through the meadow. His big fake nose turned toward home as he smelled cookies baking—mmmm!

Filled with excitement, he ran to the top of the hill, where he could see Ryan in the distance. “Hey, Ryan, wait for me! I have something magical to show you!”

Sprinting toward Ryan, Brett tripped and tumbled head over heels down the hill, sprawling in a heap at the bottom—and on top of his now-crumpled magic ears and smashed magic glasses. The rest of his magic kit was scattered all around him.

“Oh no!” he wailed. “I’ve ruined my magic!”

Brett was still crying when Ryan came running up to help him. Between sobs, Brett explained about all the magical things he had discovered and how sad he was to lose them.

Ryan helped Brett to his feet and began gathering up the scattered treasures. “You silly boy,” he said kindly. “The magic isn’t in paper ears or funny glasses. It’s in your own body. Heavenly Father gave us sight and smell and hearing and taste and touch so that we can enjoy His beautiful world. You’ve had them all along.”

Brett sniffled. “Really, Ryan? Are you sure?”

“Look, don’t you still see the brook? Can’t you still smell the wildflowers? Don’t you still feel the wind on your cheek and the ant crawling on your hand? Why, if you listened hard enough, I bet you could hear Mom filling the cookie jar right now. How about trying out your sense of taste on a fresh-baked cookie?”

Brett jumped to his feet. He looked all around and drew in a deep breath. “You’re right, Ryan!” he exclaimed. “I’m the magic! Come on, I’ll race you for the first taste!”

They galloped side by side across the meadow. “Thanks, Heavenly Father! Thanks for my marvelous, magical body!” Brett shouted to the sky.

And guess what? The cookies were snickerdoodles!