There are moments in childhood that never truly leave us. We may grow older, learn new words for the world, and explain things away with reason, but some memories stay untouched by time.
For me, fear did not begin as an abstract concept. It arrived early, unexpectedly, and without permission. As a child, I did not yet understand the language of faith or doubt. I only knew what I saw and what I felt. The world, I learned quickly, was not limited to what most people could see.
Adults often assume children imagine things. I tried to believe that myself. I wanted to believe it. But there is a difference between imagination and encounter. One leaves you curious; the other leaves you changed.
Looking back now, I see innocence not as ignorance, but as openness. Children are not yet trained to filter reality. That openness can be a gift, or a burden. Mine was both. It set me on a path I never asked for, but one I would eventually come to understand.