When faced with very frightening situations like watching Simba’s father die in Lion King or getting a vaccination, my favorite three-year old told me that she was very brave.  Bravery, like believing in Santa, often fades with time.  The brave me, who squared my shoulders and marched into a dark room all by myself has lost the gumption I had in childhood.  Most of the time, it doesn’t matter, but when I failed to defend the ideals and compassion of my country, it left me ashamed.