The undying amount of possibilities for our imagination which they offer.
When I was a child, I always ran around the forests, looking for a rabbit hole to Wonderland. As I never found one, I tried wardrobes, hoping I could get into Narnia. Every night, I left my window open, waiting for Peter Pan to take me to Neverland. When I found an old carpet in the attic, I was persuaded it was Aladdin's and I tried to talk it into taking me to see the pyramids several times. It hasn’t moved yet.
Then, once I've read the Spiderwick Chronicles, I realized I should stop just waiting for a letter from Hogwards. It's better to pay attention, see what is around - and act, if necessary.
I started collecting weird stones in hopes they could turn into a Waterhorse and when it didn't work, I got myself a dragon egg (I've spent hours wrapping the crumpled newspaper with ceramics and meticulously painting the round thing after it dried, but it was worth it: the dragon is still waiting for the right time to hatch.). Apart from being a dragon rider as Eragon, I was also a discoverer, just as Spiderwick: I wrote and illustrated my own book of fairy creatures just to be able to turn its pages and feel like the magic was breathing at me. I stole a pair of beans in the kitchen and with a beating heart, I planted them under my bed, believing they would once take me to the realm of giants (this only didn’t work because I forgot to water the poor beans and wasted my only opportunity to meet Jack). I secretely stole my grandma's ring with a blue stone and tested a turn as Arabela did it to make my wishes come true (I cracked the trick – if you ask for the night to come at the end of the day, it always comes true...) and I only returned the ring once I got a goldfish. I also was very good in making potions out of pickled chestnuts - it was just that no-one ever wanted to try them (my dad told me he didn't really want to turn into a cat, but maybe it was the taste, because when I forced a spoon into my brother's mouth, he spat it out).
As you probably grasped, I am the type of person who prefers silver over gold because when I was younger, it had a meaning. Someone who doesn’t really want to know how the trick is done, for I enjoy the spell of not knowing. And even if in some cases, I couldn't really shield myself, I could never ruin it for others. Because Santa Claus is real as long as you put cookies and milk to the window for him.
Samodivas dancing in ‘Le Villi’ (1906) by Bartolomeo Giuliano