I won't go into detail but this animated one, the story line is

On the Power of Story and the Joy of Innocent Hearts

When Blair Underwood said, “I won’t go into detail but this animated one, the story line is very cool and the kids seem to love it,” his words, though simple, hold a truth that stretches beyond the screen. They remind us that storytelling — whether through film, voice, or ancient song — is one of the most sacred acts of humanity. To speak of a storyline that moves the heart of a child is to speak of something divine, for in the eyes of the young, we glimpse the uncorrupted wonder of creation itself.

In animation, as in myth, the visible is only a vessel for the invisible. The “cool storyline” Underwood mentions is not merely entertainment — it is the bridge between imagination and wisdom. Every story that captures the hearts of children carries within it a seed of truth: courage, kindness, perseverance, love. The children who “seem to love it” are not just watching pictures move across a screen; they are recognizing pieces of their own spirit reflected back at them. For in the world of stories, the soul learns what the world cannot yet teach — it learns to hope, to dream, and to believe.

The ancients knew this well. The Greek poets did not simply write tales of gods and heroes to amuse; they crafted myths to awaken the moral imagination of their people. When children heard the story of Perseus slaying the Gorgon, they learned bravery. When they heard of Odysseus, wandering far from home but never giving up, they learned endurance. So too, in our own age, the animated stories of the modern world continue this sacred duty. Beneath the laughter and color lies the eternal art of teaching the young to see goodness and possibility — even in a world shadowed by struggle.

To say, “the kids seem to love it,” is to witness the greatest reward any storyteller can receive. For when the hearts of children are moved, a future is being shaped. Their joy is pure — it does not come from fashion or fame, but from truth recognized instinctively. A child knows when a story is alive. They know when a tale carries warmth, sincerity, and wonder. Thus, Underwood’s remark, though casual, reveals a deep harmony between art and innocence — the recognition that art fulfills its highest purpose when it kindles light in those who have not yet learned to hide it.

Consider the tale of Walt Disney, who began with nothing but drawings and dreams. He too sought to tell stories that children would love — tales that would teach courage and imagination through laughter and song. Many doubted him, calling his vision foolish, yet through persistence he built a world of wonder that has shaped generations. In every child who hums a tune from his films, his spirit lives on. Like the myths of old, his animated worlds remind us that through story, the soul finds meaning and unity — that imagination is not an escape from reality, but a preparation for living fully within it.

In Underwood’s quiet words, we also hear humility — a respect for the craft and the audience. He says, “I won’t go into detail,” as if to acknowledge that some things need no explanation. The story itself, and the joy it brings, are enough. This humility mirrors the attitude of the true artist: to serve the story, not to dominate it; to delight the listener, not to boast of his skill. A good story needs no long defense, for when it touches hearts, its truth speaks for itself.

The lesson, then, is this: create with sincerity, and aim always for the hearts of the young — not only in years, but in spirit. Whether through art, teaching, or simple kindness, seek to awaken that childlike wonder which still sleeps within us all. Let your words and actions carry warmth, imagination, and meaning. For the world grows weary with cynicism, but a single story that kindles hope can light a thousand lives.

Thus, in Blair Underwood’s simple reflection lies a timeless truth — that the purpose of creation is joy, and the measure of its success is the light it brings to others. The children “who love it” are not merely an audience; they are the living proof that beauty still speaks across generations. So let us tell our stories — not for fame, but for love; not for applause, but for awakening. For when the hearts of children smile, the world itself remembers how to dream.