For a few of my younger years, a larger-than-life person of sheer goodness would pay an annual visit to where I lived to remind me that I was important. He came with and left joy in my house. I never saw him, never met him, really only knew of him, but he knew me. To the spirit of a child, anything is possible.

Today I get to remember those days and unbox the feeling of magic and possibility that pumped through my veins and my spirit. To unbox the feeling that I was loved. To unbox the feeling that I was someone. To unbox even a bit of that belief that it still is possible; whatever it is that you take a chance on believing in.