Mother

“The old man half-recalls his wandering thoughts. He mutters: ‘Mother, mother.’ It is many years since he has spoken that word, and she who bore the name has long slept beneath the sod. Ad yet it is a magic word, for it speaks of the tenderest, dearest love. A tear runs down his furrowed cheek—a tear from a fountain long since dry. But that one word, ‘Mother,’ makes the old man a child again.” —Anonymous, “Day-Dreams,” The Knickerbocker (May 1857)

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By the way, here's a collection of some of our magic-related guest blogs.

"Octarine," the imaginary color of magic.

A profile of Loïe Fuller, illusionist of light and color

The colors of ancient Egypt

Beguiled by a mystery