THERE REALLY IS MAGIC!

Magic wands.  Many of us have one, but do we really know what kind of magic they hold?

Several years ago, a group of us spent a Saturday at a Renaissance Faire.  My friend Mary Ann bought a “magic wand” that was simply a wooden dowel with ribbons tied to it.  Or was it?  When she waved it playfully, the man who'd sold it to her warned, “Be careful, my lady.  There’s power in that wand.  Use it wisely.”

That wand turned out to be quite magical!  Before the end of the day, Mary Ann had discovered some of its power.  After waving it around irreverently, she crossed the “Kissing Bridge” and just missed being hit in the face by a man swatting at a bee.  She got incorrect change when she made a purchase, and didn’t realize it until later.  There were several other incidents, and by the time we were ready to head home, Mary Ann was convinced there was “something” to the wand.

We loaded our purchases into the trunk of my car, and when I dropped Mary Ann at her house, we couldn’t find the wand anywhere.  She shrugged and said, “Oh, well.  Maybe I’m better off without it.”

When I got home and unloaded my purchases, I discovered that a gift I'd bought for a friend was missing.  The next day I thoroughly cleaned out the car—finding Mary Ann’s wand in the process—but still didn’t find the gift.  I decided I must have dropped the small package before leaving the Faire.

At work, I gave Mary Ann her wand and told her it had affected me as well, as I couldn’t find the gift I’d bought. Interestingly enough, I did find the small box in my car two days later.  It was where I’d already looked, but as it was after I’d taken the wand out of the car, and after the incidents I’m about to relate, I figured the wand was to blame.

Mary Ann told everyone in the office about the wand.  Of course, no one believed her, and a few waved it irreverently.  Mary Ann scolded them and put the wand next to her computer.  By lunch time, the system had crashed.  Mary Ann announced she’d had enough of the “cursed wand” and tossed it into her waste can. The computer system was up and running in record time after that.

Cheryl—from another department—heard about the wand and came to investigate.  She scoffed at the story, took the wand out the trash can and carried it back to her department.  Within an hour everyone in her department was arguing over trivial things.

Cheryl took the wand into the break room, opened the window and dropped it into the dumpster.  We often speculated how the wand might have affected the trash collectors.

The important lesson we learned from this is that magic does, indeed, exist―and we have to respect it.