When you’re 4, and your world has never been anything but normal, you meander around picking dandelions before your weekly soccer game.
You present the “pretty” yellow ones to your mother, and you hunt for the precious feathery ones that have gone to seed, because blowing them into the wind is still magical, at least to you.
You make your way to the nearby playground, where you spot some “friends.” When you’re 4 and your world has never been anything but normal, you see, everyone you meet is a friend. One of these new friends is a mother in a mask, whose daughter — around your age — is wearing one too. You are too enthralled by your puffy white treasures to mind. You innocently march up to the mother, offer her a handful of your dandelions, and ask, “would you like to help me blow these seeds?”
And perhaps they were magical after all, because both mother and daughter shed their masks to blow dandelions with you. They smile. You smile. The girl goes to find some more dandelions to blow with her mother, and they both breathe freely for the rest of their time at the playground. You run back to your own speechless mother and explain matter-of-factly, “those friends liked blowing dandelion seeds, too.”
When you’re 4, and your world has never been anything but normal, everyone you meet presents another opportunity to spread smiles like dandelion seeds, and that is the true magic of childhood innocence.
Mothers and fathers, let’s keep their worlds normal for as long as we can. 
