What Are We Allowing Into Our Children’s Imagination?

A Catholic Mother and Educator's Reflection on Reading, Fantasy, and Discernment

Certain questions stay with us as parents.

Some begin when our children are very small:

What should they eat?

What should they watch?

What should they read?

Who should they spend time with?

Then, almost without us realizing it, our children grow, and those questions become more complicated.

As a mother and educator, I have often reflected on the things we allow into our children's minds and imaginations. Not because I believe children should be protected from every difficult idea, but because I believe deeply in the importance of formation.

Our children are constantly being formed.

By what they see.

By what they hear.

By what they read.

By what they admire.

And by what they repeatedly consume.

The stories they encounter can influence how they understand courage, friendship, sacrifice, good and evil, and even the world around them. The characters they admire, the choices they witness, and the messages they encounter repeatedly can become part of their conversations and the questions they begin to ask.

This is why I believe parents sometimes need to pause and ask a simple but important question:

What are we allowing into our children's imagination?

I ask this not to judge another parent's choices. I know that every family has its own experiences, circumstances, and convictions. Instead, this question has led me, throughout my journey as a mother and Catholic educator, to reflect on our responsibility to guide our children.

For me, it begins with understanding the value of stories and the role they can play in forming a child's heart.

I Have Always Believed in Books

I have always strongly believed in reading.

I love books, and I believe children need rich literature, not just books that entertain. Still, I believe in stories that challenge them, expand their vocabulary, awaken their imagination, and introduce them to meaningful questions about courage, friendship, sacrifice, temptation, good and evil, and the consequences of our choices.

My own children grew up reading books such as Little Women, Oliver Twist, The Lord of the Rings, and The Chronicles of Narnia.

These stories opened doors to other worlds. Through their characters, my children encountered people who struggled, failed, sacrificed, persevered, loved, and sometimes made terrible choices.

They discovered that courage is not the absence of fear.

That friendship requires loyalty.

That temptation can be difficult to resist.

That evil exists.

That doing what is right sometimes requires sacrifice.

And that our choices matter.

I have always appreciated the way a good story can invite children to look beyond themselves. Through literature, they can explore unfamiliar experiences, consider different perspectives, and begin to understand the complexity of the human heart.

A story can help a child recognize that doing the right thing isn't always easy, that our actions have consequences, and that even when a character makes a mistake, there may be room for growth, repentance, or redemption.

This is why I believe so strongly in the beauty of reading.

And it is also why I believe we should be thoughtful about the stories we choose.

I am not against fantasy. I am not against imagination, adventure, or stories that transport children into another world.

In fact, I believe these things can be incredibly valuable.

Fantasy can awaken wonder, inspire creativity, and invite children to explore questions about good and evil, courage, loyalty, and sacrifice. Some of the most memorable stories use imaginary worlds to reveal important truths about our own.

But precisely because stories are powerful, I believe it is worth asking what they invite our children to admire, accept, or desire.

Not every story will speak to every child in the same way. Not every family will arrive at the same conclusion. And that is why discernment matters.

My Personal Experience with Harry Potter

My decision regarding Harry Potter was very personal.

I knew that many families enjoyed the books. I also understood why readers appreciated certain themes in the stories, including friendship, courage, loyalty, sacrifice, and the struggle between good and evil.

I recognized those themes without feeling I needed to make the same choice as other families.

Throughout my experience as a mother, however, I could never find a reason or justification in my conscience to let my children read Harry Potter.

That was my personal decision.

Not because I believed every fantasy story was wrong.

Not because I wanted to judge other families.

And certainly not because I wanted my children to grow up without imagination.

Quite the opposite.

I wanted them to experience beautiful stories, enter extraordinary worlds, encounter memorable characters, and discover the richness that literature can offer.

And they did.

So many wonderful books were available to them that I didn't feel the need to introduce this particular series into our home.

For me, the question became:

Why choose this story when so many other beautiful stories are available?

I didn't need to prove another parent was wrong. I didn't need every family to reach the same conclusion I had.

I needed to listen to my conscience as a mother and Catholic educator, consider what I believed was appropriate for my children, and make a decision that I could embrace with peace.

I share this experience not as a rule for every family, but as an example of how discernment can look different from one household to another.

As parents, we are not all raising the same child. Our children have different temperaments, sensitivities, interests, and levels of maturity. One child may approach a story with curiosity and thoughtful questions, while another may respond differently.

We also grow in our understanding as parents. Sometimes we discover that a decision we made when our children were younger needs reconsideration as they mature.

The important thing, I believe, is not that we all make identical choices.

It is that we take our responsibility seriously.

We can ask ourselves whether a book or film is appropriate for our child at this stage of development, whether we are comfortable with its themes, and whether we are prepared to help our child understand what they encounter.

We do not need to make these decisions out of fear or pressure.

We can make them thoughtfully, prayerfully, and with love.

What Are We Offering Instead?

This may be one of the most important questions we can ask ourselves as parents.

If we decide to say no to something, what are we saying yes to?

Children need stories.

They need adventure, heroes, laughter, imagination, and wonder.

They need beauty.

And we have so much to offer them.

We can introduce them to the lives of the saints, Scripture's stories, beautiful literature, poetry, art, music, history, and the wonders of nature. We can share family stories, create meaningful traditions, encourage service, and make room for conversations that help them understand the world and their place in it.

We can offer them stories that reveal the beauty of the human heart and the extraordinary things that become possible when people choose to love.

We can introduce them to heroes whose greatness is measured not by how much power they possess, but by how they use their gifts to serve others.

True courage is not always about defeating an enemy.

Sometimes courage is telling the truth when lying would be easier.

Sometimes it is forgiving someone who has hurt us.

Sometimes it is standing alone when everyone else chooses differently.

Sometimes it is doing what is right when nobody is watching.

And sometimes it is trusting God when we cannot understand what He is asking of us.

These stories can help children see that goodness isn't weakness, that virtue takes practice, and that our choices reveal who we are becoming.

As a Catholic mother, I want my children to know that imagination is a beautiful gift. I want them to dream, explore, ask questions, and discover extraordinary worlds through reading.

But I also want them to discover the extraordinary beauty of the world God has given us and the possibilities that open when we learn to see it through the eyes of faith.

We do not need to take imagination away from our children. We can nourish it with stories that inspire them to become more loving, courageous, generous, and virtuous.

Sometimes, the best alternative to something we choose not to welcome into our homes is not simply another form of entertainment. It is an opportunity to introduce our children to something they might never have discovered otherwise.

A book about a saint who overcame tremendous suffering.

A family read-aloud that becomes a cherished memory.

An outdoor walk that awakens curiosity about creation.

A conversation about forgiveness prompted by a character's mistake.

A story from our own family history that reminds our children of the sacrifices, faith, and love that shaped their lives.

These experiences may seem simple, but they can help build a childhood rich in imagination, relationships, and meaning.

Formation Begins at Home

Our children will eventually encounter things we would never choose for them.

We cannot control the entire world, nor can we accompany them into every experience they will have as they grow older.

But we can help form the children who will enter that world.

And that formation begins at home.

It begins with the conversations we have, the example we set, the books we share, and the time we take to listen to our children.

Sometimes, it means sitting beside them while they watch a film.

Sometimes, it means reading a book together and pausing to discuss a character's choices.

Sometimes, it simply means asking a question and allowing our children the time and freedom to answer honestly.

We might ask:

“What did you think about that?”

“Why did you like that character?”

“Was that a good choice? Why or why not?”

“What do you think Jesus would teach us about what happened?”

“What did you find beautiful about this story?”

“What do you think this story is teaching us?”

These questions are not tests. They are invitations to think, reflect, and develop an understanding of the difference between what is appealing and what is good.

We should not assume that because a child enjoys a story, they necessarily understand every message within it. Nor should we assume that silence means understanding.

Children need adults who are willing to help them make sense of what they encounter.

And sometimes, when we take the time to listen, our children surprise us with the wisdom they already possess.

These conversations also give us opportunities to gently correct misunderstandings, acknowledge difficult questions, and help children consider how their faith can guide their choices.

As they grow older, our role gradually changes. We move from making many decisions on their behalf toward helping them develop the ability to make thoughtful decisions themselves.

Eventually, they will choose their own books, films, friendships, and activities. We hope the values we have nurtured at home will help them navigate those choices with greater confidence and wisdom.

Formation is not simply telling our children what to think. It is helping them learn how to think, discern, and choose what is good.

We Can Protect Without Fear

As mothers and fathers, we can sometimes feel overwhelmed by the many influences surrounding our children.

Another film, another book, another game, another trend, or another conversation may appear when we least expect it.

It is easy to feel that we must monitor everything and anticipate every possible difficulty.

But I do not believe we are called to parent from fear.

We are called to parent from love, wisdom, prayer, and relationship.

We can say no without condemning others.

We can say yes without being careless.

We can reconsider a decision as our children mature.

We can recognize that something appropriate for one child may not be appropriate for another, or that a story suitable at one age may require greater discernment at another.

Most importantly, we can help our children understand that discernment is not about believing everything outside our homes is dangerous.

It is about learning to recognize what deserves our attention, our admiration, and ultimately, a place in our hearts.

As Catholic parents, we can bring our questions to prayer, seek wisdom, and reflect on whether our choices align with the values we hope to nurture in our children.

We will not always make perfect decisions. Sometimes we look back and realize we could have approached something differently. We may even revisit a decision after listening to our children or learning something new.

That, too, is part of parenting.

We are growing alongside our children.

Our responsibility is not to create a perfect childhood in which our children never encounter difficulty. It is to accompany them with love and help them grow in wisdom, freedom, and virtue.

And when we disagree with another family's choices, we can still respond with kindness. We can hold firmly to our convictions without assuming that we know every reason behind someone else's decision.

Discernment is personal, but it need not become a source of division.

I strongly believe that when I raised children, I was raising future adults.

The Stories Worth Giving Our Hearts To

I return often to the words of St. Paul in his Letter to the Philippians:

“Whatever is true, whatever is honourable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable… think about these things.” Philippians 4:8

What a beautiful principle to carry into our homes and our parenting.

Never imagine.

Not never explore.

Not never encounter anything difficult.

But rather, learn to recognize what is true, honourable, just, pure, lovely, and worthy of our attention.

Our children's minds and hearts are gifts.

Their imaginations are gifts.

Their capacity to wonder, question, create, and discover is a gift.

And we have the privilege of helping them discover what is truly worthy of their wonder.

So perhaps the next time our child asks, “Can I watch this?” or “Can I read this?”

We can pause.

We can pray.

We can look beyond popularity and consider the story itself, our child's maturity, and the values we hope to nurture.

And we can ask ourselves:

What might this story invite my child to admire, accept, or carry into their own life?

Entertainment may last twenty minutes.

A book may take a week to read.

A character may eventually be forgotten.

Yet the ideas we encounter repeatedly can influence how we see ourselves, how we treat others, and how we understand the world.

As parents, we cannot control every influence our children will encounter. But we can be intentional about the influences we welcome, the conversations we cultivate, and the values we live out before them.

Perhaps this is not about creating a childhood without fantasy.

Perhaps it is about creating a childhood so rich in truth, beauty, imagination, faith, literature, family, and love that our children gradually learn to recognize what is truly worthy of their hearts.

For me, this is at the heart of Catholic parenting.

It is not simply about protecting our children from the world.

It is about preparing them to enter the world with wisdom, courage, virtue, and hearts firmly rooted in Christ. And perhaps one of the greatest gifts we can give them is the ability to look at the many stories the world offers and ask, with confidence and discernment:

Does this help me grow in truth, goodness, and love?

Because ultimately, we are not simply raising children who know how to choose a good book or identify an appropriate film.

We accompany young people as they learn to choose what is good, love what is beautiful, seek what is true, and recognize the presence of God in their lives.

May we have the wisdom to guide them, the humility to keep learning alongside them, and the grace to entrust their formation to the One who loves them even more than we do.

A Thought to Carry Into Our Next Conversation

As I continue reflecting on the stories we welcome into our children's lives, I find myself returning to another important question:

What happens when the things we repeatedly see and hear gradually stop surprising us?

As parents, we may overlook how repeated exposure to certain images, language, or behaviours can shape what our children come to see as normal. This isn't about living in fear or assuming every story will negatively affect our children. Rather, it invites us to pay closer attention to the messages they encounter and how those messages may shape their understanding of the world.

In my next blog, I would like to explore this idea more closely: desensitization, and how it may influence how our children perceive what is good, acceptable, and worthy of their attention.

Perhaps the question is not only what our children are watching or reading, but also what they are gradually learning to accept without a second thought.

And as parents, that is something worth reflecting on together.