I remember when there was a big toot (and there probably still is) about how dangerous the Harry Potter stories were to children, that stories about magic were harmful and would take them away from God. I think those people might have forgotten the magic of their own childhood imagination that saw them through in their younger years. Magic wands and flying brooms are the stuff of wonderful imagination, movies are the stuff of someone's imagination, unless they have been taken from a real-life situation. The thing is to teach our children that all they see on the television is not real, and to be able to discern what is appropriate and what is not appropriate behavior.
I remember tying on a bath towel, with which I could fly; my "oxy-gum", that I got from the cartoon "Marine Boy", and could breathe underwater (we had no place to swim, at the time, heh), the Chinese Elm tree beside the house was where invisible imps lived. All of these imaginary things served to keep me entertained and playing happily for hours through the summer days of my childhood. And nothing was better than a kaleidoscope on dreary days.
Today, I have a kaleidoscope in my dresser drawer. I look at it regularly for fun and inspiration when I'm trying to come up with a new and unique knitting pattern. The colors and patterns that I see in the end of the tube are always amazing and beautiful. I watch Celeste dance on the bike path with fallen leaves that are caught up in the wind and I am inspired and uplifted. I join her and she is delighted as we dance together amid the swirling leaves and the breeze.