The magic we’re meant to carry
Thanksgiving night reminded me of something men forget far too easily, the power of believing in a little magic.
Every year, on Thanksgiving night, right when the house settles down and the leftovers are finally put away, something small but powerful happens in our home.
Our Elf on the Shelf returns.
It’s become a tradition my kids wait for with the kind of excitement adults forget how to feel. They run around the house looking for him, whispering theories, getting wide eyed at the idea that something magical has stepped back into their world for the season.
And every time I watch it unfold, I’m struck by the same thought.
Kids don’t need much to believe in magic, but men forget how to believe in anything at all.
There’s something sacred about the way children experience wonder. They don’t question it. They don’t overthink it. They don’t need the logistics, the science, the proof. They allow themselves to fully lean into the joy, the surprise, the mystery.
Meanwhile, somewhere along the path to adulthood, men trade that in for practicality. For caution. For responsibility. For pretending we’ve “outgrown” anything that makes us feel too much.
But watching my kids light up at the return of our elf… Man, that hits differently.
Because belief in magic, in possibility, in something bigger than ourselves, isn’t childish. It’s human. It’s necessary. It’s fuel.
The older we get, the more life tries to harden us. Stress. Deadlines. Bills. Failures. People depending on us. Before we know it, joy becomes something we manage, not something we feel.
And that’s why this little tradition matters.
Not because of the elf. Not because of holiday rules or routines. But because it’s a reminder that wonder is still available. Joy is still allowed. Magic still belongs in our homes and in us.
As fathers, as men, we’re not just providers. We’re the carriers of belief. Our kids learn how to see the world by watching how we show up in it. If we walk around numb, hardened, or cynical… that’s what they’ll learn to inherit.
But if we show them:
joy is worth protecting,
wonder is worth leaning into,
and magic still exists in the everyday…
Then we give them a gift we can’t wrap. A gift they’ll carry long after the elf returns to the North Pole.
Forge & Freedom isn’t just about discipline or grit or pushing into the cold, it’s about becoming the kind of men who can hold both strength and softness. Both fire and wonder. Both responsibility and belief.
The elf returns for my kids… but the reminder is for me.
As men, we don’t outgrow magic. We just forget to make space for it.
This season, I’m choosing to make space.
🔥 From the Forge,
Zachary
