If sages, mystics, and prophets agree on one thing across religions, philosophies, and cultures it is that children are holy. Their laughter is prayer as their wide smiles reveal missing teeth! “Windows in your mouth” as I’ve taught my own three to say like my mother taught me. And I’ve handed down the tradition of the Tooth Fairy, blessed be She.

My oldest son lost his first tooth quite early, before his fifth birthday. Apparently, this is genetic and he inherited the trait from his mom. One evening walk, he trailed behind as she pushed his toddler brother in a stroller and I led our dog by a leash. Suddenly, our firstborn shouted, “My mouth is bleeding!” I raced back, fearing that he had fallen. The window in his mouth didn’t register; we hadn’t even known the tooth was loose! Then, he plucked what looked like a small pearl from the grass beside the road.

The Tooth Fairy came that night and exchanged the tooth for a dollar. Over the years, that has been the going rate, which causes good-natured grumbling from older adults about inflation.

But the Tooth Fairy does not always leave dollar bills. She has gifted silver dollars. Also, coins from foreign countries, which she obviously picked up in her travels. I, too, have been to Canada and Guatemala, so I could identify the loonie and quetzal, much to my children’s delight.

Speaking of trips, my younger son lost his first tooth during a family beach vacation. Never fear! The Tooth Fairy still knew where to find him and left a beautiful seashell under his pillow.

This son then drew the Holy One. I was surprised by the bulk of the figure depicted on the page — she was muscular! He drew thick lines in bright colors. I had pictured her as lithe, spritely, muted. My son explained that she was a warrior. Didn’t she carry all those teeth through the dark night?

I am prone to appreciate the levity of children without weighing the gravitas of their faith. The sages and mystics commend them to our attention and emulation. Why? Their capacity to trust has something to with it. Some might call this blind faith, others sheer foolishness. Yet, this is their strength, not weakness. By wondering, in both senses of the word, about the magic of nighttime flying creatures, children understand something of what Father Richard Rohr terms “the really real” — life is full of gifts.

On our most recent beach trip, our daughter celebrated her fifth birthday and wiggled her first loose tooth, trying to work it out like her big brothers recommended. Shortly after we returned from the beach, I picked her up from preschool. Like every other day, she was on the playground with the rest of the class. But this glorious day she sprinted over to the chain link fence — “Daddy! Daddy, guess what? My tooth came out!” There was the window in her grinning mouth.

I came to find out that a teacher had carefully tucked the little pearl into her backpack in a Ziploc baggie so that it would arrive safely home and, eventually, rest under her pillow for the Holy One, blessed be She. But first I opened the gate, then my daughter reached for my hand. We skipped to the car, the chill in the autumn air softened by golden sunlight pouring down, and my heart soaring with the song of her voice: “Daddy, the Tooth Fairy loves me. Daddy, the world loves me!”