Undiscouraged

When I was hitchhiking in the middle of the night in the South of France,

               I was not afraid.       

When I slept on the ground at the Paris train station  with my 16 year old brother next to me, because we missed the               last train one night, I was not afraid. 

My parents would have said they were disappointed but I wasn't afraid of that either.  

                It was the least of my problems that night.

When I woke up in the train to Paris alone with a man muttering in French, the compartment doors closed and the   curtains shut, I burst into the corridor waiting for someone to pass so I could retrieve my bags and move to              another place. I was not afraid,  just mad I couldn't have the compartment to myself.

When I slid down the ski slope uncontrollably one morning early, stopping only when I hit a pole full force

                and my shoulder was pushed out of its joint, I laid waiting in pain for rescuers but

                I was never afraid.