When I was growing up in the 1940s, it wasn't the big bad wolf I was afraid of. My biggest fear was losing the skate key that fit the one pair of skates that the five of us kids shared.
Each time I wrapped the knotted shoelace holding the key around my neck, I worried. My fear was that if I lost the key, no one would ever be able to skate again. Once I finished skating, that key went back into its holding spot in the kitchen drawer, and my fear disappeared until next time. That fear seemed appropriate for my age of 8 years. By the time I turned 12 and was no longer skating on my neighbor's sidewalk, that fear disappeared only to be replaced by teenage angst.
I'm 70 now and have faced down many fears. Each time I start to worry, I remember the skate key. Somehow worries or fears have a way of working themselves out. Time seems to help.
Valerie Priger Skelly,