Listen my children. Do you hear it? The howling of the trees. What? You say it is only the wind? Nay my child it is the lamentation of the trees. They mourn because yet another child has stopped believing in faery tales. A child like that is a sorrowful thing indeed.

Why without children that believe my friend Jack Frost would not exist. Nor would jolly Saint Nick. A child who stops looking for Rendeer tracks in the snow is not a child, but the hollow shell of an adult. When a child stops believing a nymph dies. Or a fae will perish. Yes my childern this is sad.

So my children when you hear the lamentation of the trees, you should cry as well. And never stop believing.