Recently, I was standing on the sidelines at my son’s first soccer game with a brand-new team of kids he didn’t know. At home, he had been so incredibly eager to put on his uniform. He told his brothers “I’m going to play soccer. My colors are green and white. I’m a Spartan!” The whole way to the field, he looked like he could just burst out of his five-point harness with excitement. But then, we were finally there, on the sidelines. The noise of several games going on at once surrounded him as he watched a sea of green and white uniforms chasing each other all over the field. Like a balloon slowly running out of air, my son seemed to shrink next to me and bury himself in my side. I knelt down beside him and asked why he wasn’t going out on the field. He whispered tentatively in my ear: “I am afraid.”
