Very little in Rita Peplums life left her afraid.

She could withstand creepy crawly things and clowns with scary faces; she could withstand reptilian creatures and dark closed spaces.

But what Rita could not withstand- what she absolutely, positively could not handle- was heights.

She had never had any desire to be one of those flying creatures with wings, nor had she had any desire to be any taller than her modest 3 feet.

Rita liked the ground very much and the closer she was to it the happier she was.

On most occasions she thoroughly enjoyed travelling with her mom, the duo a frightless force that performed all kinds of reckless activities.

Rita loved the time they swam with tiger sharks in South Africa and she adored the glacial hikes in Northern Canada- any kind of adventure really.

But what Rita didn’t like was that her mother had dragged her unwillingly on one of the worse hikes in existence (itchy mosquito bites riddled her skin and the sun was far too hot) and to the most terrifying contraption she had ever seen.

The Capilano Suspension Bridge.

“I’m not going”, Rita huffed, crossing her arms and glaring angrily up at her mother.

Rita’s mother, a tall lean woman with thick coils of dark hair and sparkling eyes smiled.

“Come on Ritz, it’s not that bad. I’ll hold your hand the entire time”, her mother assured her.

As expected, the ever stubborn Rita gritted her teeth and shook her head.

“Not going”

Rita’s mother sighed and crouched down beside her daughter. She couldn’t fathom why, of all the terrifying tasks Rita was willing to stand, heights was her Achilles heel.

Rita’s mother herself loved hiking above the clouds and experiencing terrifying drops from great heights on bungee cords. Unfortunately, Rita’s aversion to such activities often roadblocked a lot of the adventurous plans her mother had mentally mapped.

She knew the bridge was probably not the best planned idea, but Rita had been so taken by every other part of the Canadian province that she hoped the bridge would be slightly more appealing to her.

It seems her plan had backfired and the bride was exactly as terrifying to Rita as her mother had hoped it not to be.

All around them people squeezed by towards the bridge, antsy with nerves at the thought of undergoing the daring venture. Rita’s mother felt her own excitement bubble in her chest at the thought of the adrenaline rush that they must all be experiencing; the rush she wanted to experience.

She squeezed Rita’s hands in hers and tried again, gentler this time.

“Rita, you can never let go of your fears unless you at least try to face them”, her mother said softly, her hands warm on Rita’s skin.

Rita glanced at the bridge behind her mother and bit her lip nervously. It was swaying slightly from the weight of people crossing it, but overall the bridge seemed sturdy enough.

Still, unease coiled in Rita’s gut like a compost of lively worms.

“Can’t. Too high”, was all Rita managed to mumble, her eyes still glued to the bridge.

Her mother desperately wanted to push harder, to make Rita cross the bridge and proclaim proudly on the other side: “See! It wasn’t that bad!”.

But the clear discomfort on her daughters face and her clammy palms set her maternal instincts on high alert. Perhaps pushing Rita too far was not a good idea. Besides, Rita was the most fearless kid she had ever known and she was grateful her daughter was so willing to stick by her side for all the other adrenaline fuelling adventures she had taken them on.

A little disappointed, but overall proud of her decision, her mother nodded.

“Okay, if that’s what you want Rita, we don’t have to cross the bride. It’s alright”, she announced.

Rita smiled thankfully up at her mother, but the sullenness in her big dark eyes did not go unnoticed.

Her mother squeezed Rita’s shoulders gently pressed a kiss to her temple.

“Really honey, it’s all right”, she assured her, meaning it more the second time. Her mother had decided that crossing the bridge was no longer high on her list of priorities, all she wanted now was for Ritas face to light up with that smile she adored.

“I heard there’s a fantastic ice cream shop nearby and you’ll never guess what they have….”, Rita’s mother trailed switching gears to a topic she hoped would cheer Rita up. She watched her daughters face anxiously.

The lines on Rita’s face smoothed and a smile slowly crossed her face.

“Rocky Road?”, she asked hopefully.

Her mother nodded, a giant smile spreading across her face at the sight of Rita’s expression.

“Shall we go?”, her mother asked, standing at full height and extending her palm out to Rita. Rita took her hand joyfully and as the two turned their back on the bridge Rita’s mother felt Rita tighten her grasp on her hand.

Under her breath Rita murmured: “I’ll do it next year mom, I promise. I just need more time”.

Rita’s mother squeezed her hand back lovingly and smiled down at her daughter, the miniature version of herself.

“I know you will, my fearless little lion”