One grey night it happened...

Recently I was arranging some songs to use in teaching music theory. I picked a few familiar songs with relatively simple harmonic structure to use as examples with some of my students, and one of those was "Puff (The Magic Dragon)".

It wasn’t until after I had printed the song — without lyrics — that I stopped to consider what this favourite song from my childhood meant to me.

I don’t know when I first heard "Puff," but I remember owning a 45 rpm record of it by Peter, Paul and Mary when I was 5 or 6. (For anyone under 30, a "45" was a vinyl disk similar to an LP but much smaller, and had only two songs — one on each side.) I listened to that record all the time, on a portable record player that I had in my room.

One day, after listening to it, I went out to play. I had forgotten to take the record off the turntable. The summer sun shone in through my bedroom window directly onto the record player. When I came back inside I discovered that my treasured record had warped so badly it would not play. I was devastated.

About ten years or so ago there was a Peter, Paul and Mary reunion concert on tv. Of course, they sang "Puff," with Mary’s granddaughter sitting on her knee. As happens whenever I hear it, it brought back bittersweet memories of my childhood, including what happened to my record.

For me, "Puff" is the story of all young children who, eventually, lose their innocence as they grow out of their childhood. It is the story of discarding our childish pastimes and toys and growing up.

It is also the saddest song that I have ever heard.

His head was bent in sorrow, green scales fell like rain,
Puff no longer went to play along the cherry lane.
without his life-long friend, Puff could not be brave
so Puff that mighty dragon, sadly slipped in to his cave. Oh!

What could be sadder than that?

What makes it even more poignant is that the song isn’t told from Jackie’s point-of-view. It is Puff, the product of Jackie’s imagination, who realizes what is happening.

Now, you may be thinking "Okay, he’s fond of that song, but ‘saddest song ever?’ Puh-lease!"

To me, it really is. I think back to my childhood and the games I would play. My friends and I didn’t need a lot of toys; we had our imaginations. We could be anyone, anywhere and we could do anything. We were astronauts, explorers, firefighters, soldiers, scientists and superheroes. The laws of physics and nature didn’t apply; if we could imagine it, then it was possible.

But, just like little Jackie Paper, we found out that "painted wings and giant rings make way for other toys." We learned the truth about Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. We could no longer run down the street making siren sounds, or with our arms spread out from our sides like jet fighter wings.

Of course, growing up is inevitable and there are many more experiences that one can enjoy as an adult that children cannot. I wouldn’t want to go back and be a child again, nor would I wish to have remained a child forever.

But I do look back with great fondness on the innocence, naïvety, and sheer joy of childhood. I watch children now and I am envious of them. I wonder if they realize what a wondrous time this period of their lives is. I wonder if they, too, will one day look back with longing.

To be honest, I haven’t entirely abandoned my child-like ways. I still cling fiercely to a remnant of that childhood which exists within me.

A friend of mine is fond of saying that she may grow old, but she refuses to grow up. I’m not refusing to grow up — given some of the events of my life, I have had no choice but to do so — but I do refuse to completely let go of my "inner child."

Maybe that’s why I do get along so well with children, and why I seem to be able to relate well to them.

Certainly it explains why, in addition to other genres of literature, I really enjoy fantasy: authors such as JRR Tolkien, CS Lewis, Asimov, and JK Rowling. Perhaps it even explains my creative streak.

So, if I am clinging to my inner child, why do I find "Puff" to be such a sad song? I believe because it reminds me of others I have known who did let go, and are no longer able to find that child-like enjoyment in their lives.

Childhood was, is, and should always be, a simpler time in our lives; a time when we have no responsibility but to enjoy ourselves as we explore and discover the wonders of the world around us. It is a time to love and be loved, to be safe, and to live every moment to its fullest.

As adults, we should always keep with us the ability to enjoy life the way we did as children.

But, that’s just my opinion.