In this version, Wendy and her brothers live in Neverland for an unknown amount of time. Could be years, could be days and who knows when time is different in Neverland compared to here? This cartoon didn't only focus on Peter, Wendy and Hook but also on the other lesser-known pirates which was something new when it came to the Peter Pan legacy. The characters' appearances are different than most previous versions as well.
What I loved most about this show was that every day was a new adventure. There was danger, excitement and always a small lesson to be learned about friendship, though Peter himself rarely learned any real moral lessons. I loved that the Darling children never felt any pressing need to return to their parents and their previous life. They were enjoying all the splendors of Neverland for as long as they could.
To this day I can recall a dream I had when I was about seven years old. I remember it in vivid detail. I was sitting in my second grade class, listening as I should, when suddenly from the open window, a ball of light flew in. Little red-headed Tinkerbell had flown all the way from Neverland to my classroom! And she was asking me to go back with her!
Of course, in my dream I was ecstatic and immediately left with her, teacher and classmates be damned. With a sprinkling of fairy dust, away we flew and man, was Neverland everything I knew it would be! All of the lost boys were there with Wendy and her brothers. Peter wasn't pleased at first that Tinkerbell had brought a strange girl without his permission but I went out of my way to prove my worth by fighting pirates and befriending the Indian tribe.
Oh, the wonders of a child's mind where a simple dream can change a person's view of the world around them. When I woke from this dream I was so sad. Really, really sad. Because you see, I'd returned from a place where magic and games are an everyday occurrence, to a place where broken dreams were a reality.
I was constantly bullied as a child. I awoke every day knowing that I would be told how ugly, stupid and useless I was. Nothing I said was right. Nothing I wore was cool. All of my friends were losers. Basically, everything about me was wrong.
And adults just didn't seem to notice this bullying. If I complained, I was just being whiny and over dramatic. My tender little mind was having a really hard time with this.
But once I dreamed such a lovely dream and woke up so sad, I soon told myself that it didn't really have to end. I could go back there whenever I wanted. And so, every night when I lay down and had trouble sleeping, I'd make up a story. I'd return to Neverland and be the first lost girl ever! (This was of course, long before they made that Return to Neverland movie with the annoyingly serious daughter of Wendy, Jane.)
This is when my first real stories began. I soon developed elaborate plots and great ongoing adventures with my Neverland friends. These make-believe bedtime tales went on for years but it was the next year, in my third grade class that I realized my calling. My teacher, Mrs. Baldree, told me that the stories I wrote for assignments were really good. "You could be a writer one day," she said.
I'm sure the old woman had no idea what that one sentence did for my little ego. Someone thought I was worth something! I was actually good at something! That was when I told myself that I would be a writer one day.
But it took many years for me to really even begin writing anything. I didn't start writing poetry until seventh grade. Later, I began writing on a sweet little drama about children enjoying the wonder and freedom of playing outdoors all summer. And slowly over the years, I began to truly feel that calling deep inside me. It wasn't enough to want to write. No, you have to need to write.
Now here I am, published and with so much more left in my soul that it's nearly bursting with stories to share. I'm still not that great at storytelling. Oh, the stories themselves are great but my skills at telling them are still lacking. But I do hope that one day I will evolve into an accomplished writer who can be proud of every short story and piece of poetry that ever poured out of me.
And to this day, late at night when I have trouble sleeping, I return to Neverland and the simple joys of childhood. Nibs and I run through fields of wildflowers and chase fairies. Peter and I laugh and fly wildly at the pirates we harass for the sake of fun. Wendy smiles warmly at me as I tell her of my adventures. And not once do I worry about going home.
I'm a writer. My imagination is home.
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