Invisible Magic Hands

 
One memory from childhood that has always stuck with me is at once odd and mundane.
 
The memory comes from a Sunday morning, getting ready for church. I would have been four, I think, or maybe younger. On that particular day I realized I couldn't just push the end of my belt through the first belt loop of my dress pants, then push the rest of the belt to follow, and have the belt snake around my waist, slip through the other belt loops and, finally, through the last loop, where I could then cinch it with the buckle. No such luck. Instead, I had to find each loop in turn and slip the belt through them, all the way around (fortunately, I was a skinny kid, so it didn't take too long).
 
What was weird, what made me remember this event, was the nagging thought that it used to be just that simple, even magical. First loop, snake, last loop, buckle.
 
I have always wondered why I would have ever thought that. I used to believe this was an example of "the magical thinking of childhood". Or that I just remembered it wrong.
 
Recently, though, at the age of 42, I think I finally discovered the real answer.
 
I think that before that particular Sunday, my mother, or my father, or even my older brother or sister, had helped me get dressed for church. With their help, whoever they were, putting my belt on was exactly that easy: First loop, snake, last loop, buckle.
 
Magic, with a couple helping hands.
 
I had only remembered the part I did, and the final result. I never remembered–and I still don't–the assistance I received. But it must have been there.
 
So, Mom, Dad, Don, Wanda: Thanks. For helping me get dressed. And for giving me a bit of childhood magic I've never forgotten. =)
 
-David
 
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