Peter Pan had flown above every ocean and explored every corner of Neverland a thousand times over.
He had fought pirates and raced with mermaids and danced with fairies in the blue Neverland moonlight.
But when he heard Wendy's voice carrying her story out through the open nursery window, he stopped completely.
Something in that voice reached inside him and touched a place that even Neverland had never quite reached before.
The story she was telling was about adventure and courage and the love between people who chose each other freely.
Peter realized that Wendy's words created something that all the wonders of Neverland had somehow never managed.
They created the feeling that what was happening mattered — that the people in the story truly and completely counted.
Wendy told stories because they held the greatest magic.

Peter Pan's decision to bring Wendy to Neverland was not simply about finding a mother for the lost boys.
It was about recognizing a particular and irreplaceable form of power that he had encountered for the first time.
Peter had access to fairy dust and mermaids and a crocodile who ate clocks — he was not short of wonders.
What he lacked was the ability to make those wonders feel meaningful rather than simply spectacular and exciting.
Wendy's stories did something that the raw experience of Neverland alone had always somehow failed to accomplish.
They gave events a shape and a significance — a before and after and a reason why any of it should matter.
Peter understood this with the instinctive clarity that he brought to most things he genuinely cared about.
The greatest magic was not in flying or fighting but in the human ability to make experience into meaning.
Wendy told stories because they held the greatest magic.