“This is magic.”

Only a child would say something like that while walking the halls of a children’s hospital.

We had just exited the elevator taking us from the registration floor up to the pre-op level for my daughter’s scheduled surgery –a tonsillectomy, a frenotomy (lip-tie cut), and a myringotomy (ear tube replacement).

When we stepped off the elevator onto the next floor, I immediately noticed that the walls were covered in bright images, and as we walked down the hall, every person we encountered wore a genuine smile.

“This is magic,” my daughter said.

“Why yes, it is, honey,” I replied, sounding a bit surprised.

Come to think of it though, being taken aback, well, that was probably the last thing I should have been.

At two years old, my child is pretty intelligent and intuitive. While I chuckled a bit after hearing her adorably naive, but authentically positive remark, it wasn’t because what she said was funny; rather because of how impressed I was with her perception of the moment and acceptance of a typically intimidating environment.

As we walked to my daughter’s assigned room, I thought to myself “she is absolutely right,” and while I just looked at her and smiled, here is what I was thinking:

You’re right sweetie, and I cannot believe that at such a challenging time for you and with all you are facing on this day, you are capable of modeling strength and exuding and spreading a semblance of peace.

And, you know what little munchkin?

It is magic you have inside of you that enables you to see this old scary building in such a glorious light.

It is magic that gives you the impressive strength to walk the entry hall “like a boss,” my little boss baby.

It is magic that allows for you to bravely engage and interact with your nurses and specialists without a single tear.

It is magic that gives you the green light to trust your gut and accept this mama’s instruction to go with your medical team into the OR agreeably.

It is the magic inside of you that ignites the magic inside of me permitting me to keep my nerve and to be confidently hopeful and trust that all will be okay.

It is magic that makes up the prayers of everyone that loves you that will help to ensure your arrival on the other side of this procedure healthier and happier than before.

It is the magic that is innate in the hearts and heads of those adults that devote themselves to medical careers for which parents like me will forever be grateful.

It is magic that is ever present in those who occupy roles such as medical administration, support staff, nurses, physician assistants, doctors and surgeons that gives them the mental, physical, and emotional stamina to selflessly help those in need, like you, day after day.

It is magic that they, you, and I can all work together as a “team” toward the same goal — helping in any way we can to promote life because we understand the sanctity of it.

“This is magic.”

I used to think that only a child would say something like that while walking the halls of a children’s hospital, but here I was whispering that to myself as we stepped off the ground floor elevator and proceeded to our car.

As we pulled out of the parking garage of the children’s hospital, I rhetorically questioned: “I wonder how much more magic will happen in that hospital?”

“A lot!” my two-foot-tall sage in the backseat exclaimed.