Monday, September 30, 2013

Fear: 1st in a Series

My pre-school years were spent in the country with my parents. I loved my upstairs east bedroom. Sunny mornings sunbeams streamed through my window all the way to my bed and bathed me in happy. It's one of my best childhood memories. One spring morning my peaceful waking was shattered when I heard loud, excited voices outside. I wanted to peek out the window, but I was too scared. The voices didn't stop. I huffed and puffed, climbed out of bed and stomped to the window, pulled the curtain back, and saw Dad clubing something. It moved. I screamed and yelled "Stop it!" through the closed window. I wanted to go down and make him stop, but what if Dad came after me? I threw myself on my bed and sobbed. If it was in his way, why didn't he just walk around it. He's bigger than it is. What can I do? I pounded my little fists into the pillow. What did the thing do to him?

Hours later my mother explained a snapping turtle was in our yard and it was dangerous. I wasn't satisfied. "Why didn't you just take it back where it came from? The mean red roosters don't like me. You don't do anything to them." I backed away from her attempt to comfort me. She didn't defend its life; would she defend mine? Would Dad?

What did I learn? Children relate what happens to something else as something that could happen to them. Mom and Dad had never done me wrong. I hoped they never would. At the time, I didn't know we ate the mean red roosters. Maybe that's why when I cook chicken, I also maked deviled eggs.

Tell us what you learned from your fear.

2013 Red Convertible Travel Series

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