I owe a thank you to the man at the bagel store; you probably don't remember me and this may catch you off guard, but you saved my little brother's life today.

Your split second decision to change the knife you used is the reason why my little brother is at his practice getting ready for tomorrow's game. See, what you probably didn't realize was that your co-worker used that very same knife you picked up to cut a peanut butter sandwich a couple minutes before we came in. I know, it's just a peanut butter sandwich and changing gloves when someone informs you of an allergy should be enough, but it isn't. That being said, it's not your fault, the majority of us aren't educated on the severity of food allergies so even if you didn't change that knife I couldn't blame you. But you did, so again, thank you.

I grew up with the fears that every child has. The monster under the bed, the white van handing out candy. Fears that were rid of with rules and routines guaranteed to keep me safe. Safe from pain, violence and the unknown. When I thought about a killer I always envisioned a scary being locked away in a dark house in a faraway forest miles and miles away from me. But for my brother his fears and perception of danger are far different than mine were. My brother's biggest enemy is sold at every grocery store imaginable. It sits inside his best friend's closet, his classmate's lunch box. The killer he envisions is a knife that was poorly cleaned, a piece of chicken fried in peanut oil, sipping out of the wrong water bottle, etc. For him, there are no clear rules and routines that will guarantee his safety, his life relies on the honesty of the workers behind the counter, the list of ingredients on packages and faith that when someone says there is no peanuts, there are no peanuts.

It's a scary reality that more and more children are forced to live with. but it's even more frightening that we as a society are not more educated about the severity of it. The only reason I am so aware is because I live with someone who deals with it. My brother is incredible, strong and cautious but it doesn't mean my family doesn't worry. Everyday I hear of another child growing up with a peanut allergy. Everyday I hear of another child dealing with a reality where their fears and killers are amongst them.

What would have happened if that knife wasn't cleaned? Would anyone in that bagel store have known what to do? Would you, if you were there, know what to do? Someone experiencing a severe allergic reaction has only minutes before it becomes fatal. Scary? Imagine if it was you, your brother, your son, your friend. I bet your trip to the bagel would be much different, if you'd go at all. We as a society need to take food allergies more serious. It's 2016, no one should be dying because of a poorly cleaned knife.