From The Story Girl, L.M. Montgomery,
“I wish there was such a place as fairyland—and a way to get to it,” said Cecily.
“I think there is such a place—in spite of Uncle Edward,” said the Story Girl dreamily, “ and I think there is a way of getting there too, if we could only find it.”
Well, the Story Girl was right. There is such a place as fairyland—but only children can find the way to it. And they do not know that it is fairyland until they have grown so old that they forget the way. One bitter day, when they seek it and cannot find it, they realize what they have lost; and that is the tragedy of life. One day the gates to Eden are shut behind them and the age of gold is over.
Henceforth, they must dwell in the common light of common day. Only a few, who remain children at heart, can ever find that fair, lost path again; and blessed are they among mortals. They, and only they, can bring us tidings from that dear country where we once sojourned and from which we must evermore be exiles. The world calls them its singers and poets and artists and story-tellers; but they are just people who have never forgotten the way to fairyland.