This was also my mother’s strange fate. She was afraid of everything, especially the open water, yet she managed to cross rough seas as a stowaway because she had no money for the passage north.
She was poor and uneducated, yet she ran away from her home in Puerto Rico and voyaged to New York City where the language and customs were alien, seeking a better life.
Life had not been kind to her, yet she met its challenges one after another.
Fear drove her and yet she did not flinch, fearing the alternative.
Sometimes I wonder if that is not the best definition of courage.