One sunny summer day atop a green, grassy hill sat a small, shiny beetle and a wise young girl. They spoke of the weather and of books they had read and all the places that they'd love to see before they were dead. Then, as conversations tend to do, it took a serious turn, and they found themselves sharing their fears.

"I'm afraid of being stepped on, and of very stormy nights. Everyday I fear, becoming the meal, of a crow or a hawk," revealed the beetle.

The girl nodded her head, " Those make a lot of sense. At least they're more imminent than any of mine."

"So tell me," began the beetle turning to the girl," what are the things you fear the most, if not creepy crawling things and the vastness of the earth?"

She looked to the sky, and took a deep breath, then began to recite, "I'm afraid of falling in love, and yet of being alone. I'm afraid of long term commitment, and of never feeling like I belong. I'm afraid of the passage of time, and of never doing all I dream. I am afraid to stay in one place, and of never truly being seen. I'm afraid of all the wrongs that need to be turned right. And I'm afraid of never becoming as great as people assume me to be. I'm afraid of expectations, and of expecting far too much, and I fear the disappointments that I am sure to come upon. I'm afraid of needless hate, and sleepless nights. However, I do not fear dying, but of dying to soon for I still have too much living left to do."

The beetle was silent for a spell, gathering his words, "You have an awful lot to be afraid of, but how can you live with all that weighing you down?"

The girl smiled a small smile, "It's not as hard as you'd think. You see, I have faith that things work out in the end. If love is on the horizon then I will accept it, and if not then life will go on. If I never find something that takes the fear out of commitment then it never was worth committing too, and in loneliness we often find out who we truly are. Time is always passing by with a friendly wave, and with it brings blessings that we never could have imagined. And dreams, aren't they beautiful? For even if one dies, another springs up from it's ashes like a phoenix in flight. I only have to stay one place as long as I choose, and as long as I can see myself I'll know how to thrive. I have accepted I can't fix everything, and I can only answer for myself. Disappointments only help us to see the truth, and hate helps us to see love. Sleepless nights give us time to reflect on life, and death reminds us to live while we are alive."

She went quite then to allow the beetle time to take everything in.

"You are very wise for someone so young." the beetle decided at last.

"Ah," said the girl with a grin, "what has age to do with one's wisdom? Wisdom is not determined by the amount of birthdays you have celebrated, but of the