You know when you have a party as a kid, and your mom hires a

When Sarah Snook said, “You know when you have a party as a kid, and your mom hires a fairy, princess, or superhero to come host the party? I was Fairy Lavender. I loved it. It was good training for theater,” she was not only reminiscing about a whimsical past — she was speaking, perhaps unknowingly, about the sacred art of beginnings, the way greatness often hides beneath simplicity, and how play becomes the first teacher of purpose. Beneath her lighthearted tone lies a truth as old as civilization itself: that the seeds of destiny are sown in the soil of innocence.

To be Fairy Lavender — a make-believe spirit of joy, dressed in wings and glitter, delighting children with stories and wonder — may seem a small thing. Yet, it was in that act of play, that temporary assumption of character, that Snook began her apprenticeship in the craft of transformation. The ancients understood the power of pretending — they called it mimesis, the imitation that leads to understanding. From the rituals of Greek drama to the dances of the shamans, performance was never mere entertainment; it was a pathway to truth, a bridge between the visible and the invisible. So too did young Snook, through her playful enchantments, unknowingly step into the lineage of those who used imagination to bring meaning into the world.

Her story reminds us that every great calling begins humbly. The warrior first lifts a wooden sword. The poet first speaks in rhyme before he learns to weave verse. The actor first dons the costume of a fairy at a child’s birthday before stepping beneath the lights of the stage. In ancient Greece, it was said that Athena hides wisdom in ordinary labors — that the divine waits to be discovered in small, earthly things. What mattered was not the grandeur of the stage, but the devotion to the act itself — the joy, the sincerity, the willingness to give oneself wholly to even the smallest role. Fairy Lavender was not a mere costume; she was a rehearsal for the soul’s expression.

There is also in Snook’s memory a profound lesson about the dignity of work and the humility of craft. Many dream of fame, yet few honor the stages that come before it — the awkward, the unseen, the unglamorous beginnings. But the ancients taught that every hero must first pass through obscurity. Even Odysseus, before he conquered Troy and defied the gods, learned endurance tending sheep and sailing humble ships. Likewise, Snook’s fairy wings were her first armor — fragile, yes, but luminous with the light of passion. What to others seemed trivial, to her became training, a sacred preparation for the life to come.

And within that playfulness lies another wisdom — the power of joy as a teacher. Her love for what she did transformed an ordinary job into an act of art. The philosopher Plato once said that children should be taught not through compulsion, but through play, for in play the soul finds its natural rhythm. Snook’s “good training for theater” was not academic — it was the schooling of the heart. She learned to connect, to improvise, to hold an audience’s attention not through technique alone, but through wonder and sincerity. What she carried from those birthday parties into her acting career was not only skill, but spirit — the sacred understanding that art begins where joy and service meet.

Her reflection also reminds us that every artist — indeed, every human — must remember their first enchantment. As we grow older, the world becomes heavier, and we forget the magic that once made us dream. But to be great is to keep that spark alive — to remember the child who played freely, the beginner who believed that pretending could change reality. Sarah Snook’s Fairy Lavender lives still within her — not in costume, but in the authenticity she brings to every role, the faith that imagination can move hearts.

So, let this story be a lesson to those who seek meaning in their paths: Do not despise humble beginnings, for they are sacred ground. The ordinary task, done with love, becomes holy. The small role, performed with joy, becomes the seed of greatness. Whether you are painting, teaching, building, or dreaming — do it as Fairy Lavender once did: with lightness, laughter, and total presence.

For the path to mastery begins with play, and play, when done in love, becomes devotion. What begins as a child’s fantasy may, in time, reveal the shape of your destiny. And one day, when you stand upon your own grand stage — whatever form it takes — you will realize, as Sarah Snook did, that every step, every moment, even the smallest, was “good training” for the life you were meant to live.