One of my earliest memories of being genuinely frightened was when I was about 5years old. I was playing in the garden of my next door neighbour with said neighbours two daughters. General high jinx ensued, they had a huge garden so whilst I don't remember what we were playing, I'm sure it was some sort of adventure. It was nearing tea time when I heard a loud rumble. I'm sure this was not the first time in my young life that I had come across thunder, but its the first time I became aware of it and was terrified of it. Whilst standing around thinking the world was ending, the oldest of the two girls tried to calm us down by stating all that was happening was that the clouds were going to fall out of the sky but it was fine because she had a big stick to catch it with. This encouraged me to run inside and hide under the clothes horse, much to the amusement of the neighbours. I think dinner time must have rolled around and Dad came looking for me and found me terrified underneath this clothes horse. After a lot of coaxing and soothing, he successfully lured me from my hiding place. But instead of taking me home where I could hide and remain frightened, he took me out into the street and explained thunder storms to me. He explained how we could count between the flash of lightening and the clap of thunder. This big, scary sound turned into a game and became a new wonder for me to learn about. I remember striding up and down the street, confidently counting the seconds until the thunder. He practically had to drag me inside out of the rain. It's such a little thing but its a memory that has always remained quite vivid. I always felt like it was a unique moment between the two of us and a bonding moment that only a father could have with his child. It's a special thing to be able to take your child's fears away from them and now as a grown up I can appreciate that all Dad ever wanted was to rid us of our fears and try to make life as easy as possible for us.