A 6-Year-Old’s Lesson in Courage

Yesterday, I was in the kitchen making dinner while my kids were outside playing in the backyard. At some point, my six-year-old daughter ran inside, a little apprehensive, and admitted she had thrown something into the neighbor’s yard.

Seeing an opportunity, I told her she couldn’t just go into the neighbor’s yard without asking. She looked at me, unsure of what to do next. “You need to go knock on their door and ask if you can go get it,” I said.

Instant rejection. No way. Not happening.

I reassured her. “The neighbor is a nice lady. She loves kids. She’ll have no problem with it.” Still, she hesitated.

So I gave her a script.

We practiced it until she knew it by heart:
"My name is ___. I live next door. I accidentally threw something into your yard. May I go get it?"

We rehearsed it until she couldn’t get it wrong—until she was confident enough to do it on her own. Then, we walked over together. She rang the doorbell, then turned back to look at me, nerves radiating through every fiber of her little body. I stood slightly off to the side—close enough for her to feel in control, but positioned so the neighbor could see me too. This was her moment.

When the neighbor answered, my daughter delivered her lines flawlessly. Her knees rocked back and forth as she spoke, a physical reaction to the fear she was pushing through. But she did it. The neighbor smiled and opened the gate, allowing her to retrieve her toy.

When she came back, I asked, “How did that feel?”

She beamed. "That felt amazing. I really actually liked it."

She had just stepped into fear and come out the other side stronger. A mental barrier had been broken. That hesitation, that fear of approaching someone with what she thought was bad news, was gone. She had the courage to talk to someone she didn’t know, to take responsibility, to step into discomfort. And now? She couldn’t wait to do it again.

That’s how it works. One moment, one decision to take the brakes off, and suddenly, fear isn’t a wall—it’s a doorway.

What We Can Learn from a Six-Year-Old

Fear isn’t something to be avoided. It’s something to be stepped into. Confidence isn’t built by avoiding discomfort—it’s built by leaning into it, one small step at a time. My daughter didn’t just get her toy back that day. She gained something much more valuable: the proof that she could face what scared her and come out stronger.

And if a six-year-old can do it? What’s stopping you?