Well, I don’t know if any of the stuff I’ve done is "bravery", or just things that had to be done at the time. I saved my younger brother from drowning, twice (and he almost drowned both of us the first time :P) when I was a kid.

And then I took charge of my younger siblings (who were still living at home and in grade school) when my Mom (our only living parent, not to mention the only close relative in the state) had a heart attack — and made her stay in the hospital to get the treatment she needed when she wanted to come home to take care of them…made sure they did all the things they had to do, did their school work, ate right, took care of the pets, took their showers, etc….and didn’t let myself cry a tear until after it was all over with, no matter how scared I got. I think that was probably the scariest time in my life…but being able to focus on what needed to be done, knowing that crying would only get in the way of things, sure helped us get through. :P

But, like I say, I don’t think of that as "bravery" so much as simply doing what had to be done at a moment when it had to be done.

For me I knew I could handle anything when I had to walk into my fathers funeral alone.

I am single and was about 43 then.

I had just been diagnosed with an awful disease and had to walk on forearm crutches.

I really felt all alone for the first time.

Now when I think back I am feeling kind of proud that I handled it all so well.

Years ago when there was a fire in one of the buildings in the complex we lived in during grad school - directly across from our building. It was nighttime. We were all out on the plaza feeling utterly helpless then one of the firemen shouted there was a child "up there… " I knew who the family was, and before I realized it I was in that building, crawling through their apartment (to avoid the smoke’s thickness), calling the child … I remember getting him, tucking his little head under my arm and close to my side. Shouts were heard behind me.

I woke up in the rescue wagon on oxygen! I don’t think that was bravery though - it just had to be done.

"Abilene’s Child/Tormented Hope/Aunt Eleanor"

Abilene’s sun beat down on my back as I rode my horse towards the hotel.  My brother was wiping his brow while pressing his horse to walk faster.  I couldn’t wait to go swimming.  It did not take long for me to burn my back.   The next day, though my back was hurting, I insisted on going swimming at the hotel again.  This time, though, big blisters were all over my back, and I knew that I was going to be sick. 

My grandfather, brother and I were scheduled to ride on a trail ride.  I was so excited.   I doubled on the horse, riding behind my papa.  It felt so good to actually touch Papa.  He didn’t touch much.   But, as the sun bore down on my back, the pain began to make me nauseated.  I insisted on staying on the horse, and only my brother knew how sunburned I really was.   With each bump and wiggle from the horses walk, I could feel the blisters bursting.  Soon, I became weak.  My brother rode up beside my papa and told him that I needed to get off.  I was taken back home.  I lay in the bed all that night crying and moaning silently.   The next day, with no air conditioner, the heat only intensified my pain.  Three nights I had moaned and cried silently.  The next day, I lay there pleading with Jesus to help me.   This lady walked into my room and she was bright bright.   She laid her cool, refreshing hand on my cheek and said, "You poor dear".  She knelt beside my bed and prayed for me.   I slipped into a wonderful deep sleep, pain free.   I slept all the rest of that afternoon, until the next day, until about 9:00 AM.  I remember feeling so touched that someone went out of their way to find me.  I jumped up, got dressed and ran outside to find my papa.  He was working behind an old car hood.  "Papa!  I feel great.   Who was that lady angel?"   It turned out it was Papa’s sister, my Great Aunt Eleanor.  I had not been raised around her.  She told me that she had changed my diaper once.   At age 12, I decided that I would be more careful while in the sun. 

At age 13, I went and lived with one of my papa’s brothers.   When I was 14, Aunt Eleanor came back into my life.   My Uncle had an old ambulance that we drove into to take Aunt Eleanor to Tennessee to see another of her brothers.  However, she was not the same lady angel who had gotten down on her knees and prayed for me.  She was not bright and lit up.   She was pale and suffering from altztheimers.  Aunt Eleanor did not know anyone.    She was a real handful.  I tried to talk to her but all she wanted to do was to get out and runaway.   This made me very sad.   After the Tennessee trip, her husband had no choice but to put her in a nursing home.  Every Sunday, my uncle would take me and we would go visit Aunt Eleanor.  Sometimes I got to go on Saturdays.  I tried to be with her as much as possible.   She never recognized her husband or anyone.   She was tied down to the bed.   I told her how loved I felt from her and I hoped that she felt the same.  I envisioned her as that angel and told her to remember Jesus and the light of God.   She did die.  Aunt Eleanor was sent by God to love, pray, and comfort me.  I was sent by God to do the same for her.  Isn’t that amazing.  

I love this subject because for the past few years I have been compiling stories from friends and acquaintances on the bravest thing they ever did as a child.  A different twist on the theme.

I would say that as an adult one of the bravest things I had to do was say goodbye to my son when he left for Afghanistan on his first deployment to the middle east.  The other two goodbyes were not that much easier, but the first was the most frightening.  I had faced cancer a few times at that point, which was pretty scary, but to see the look in his eyes when he was leaving was just too much.