When I was a child, I was very shy. I do not recall there being a reason - I was just a little nervous and withdrawn. When I was out in public, I stuck fairly close to my Mom, or some other family member if she was not available. I remember hearing the words "clingy" and "scaredy cat" connected to my name. I hated the labels, but that was not enough to cure me of being bashful.
One Sunday after church, I got separated from Mom and my brother. I could not remember where the car was parked, so I decided that I had better hang on to Dad's hand while we were in the large crowd that had meandered out into the foyer. We stood in one place for a few minutes while Dad talked to some other men. I was not much taller than knee-level on most adults at that point, so the scenery was not great. I was getting tired of counting the buttons on suit coats and I looked up at Dad to ask if we could go. That was when the fear really hit me. This man who held my hand in his was not my Dad. Where was Dad? Why was this man wearing the same suit as Dad? How did I get switched up like that? How was I going to find anyone I recognized?
