Once upon a time, there was a boy named Sung who was afraid of heights more than anything else in the world — even though his name meant “tall.”
He never stood near a balcony railing, never climbed a tree, never scaled even the smallest hill. His friends teased him for being such a scaredy-cat, but Sung didn’t mind. He knew his fear was real.
One day, Sung took his little sister Nam to play near the hills. Nam loved hopping across the rocks, but she lost her footing and tumbled into a deep, narrow pit.
Sung ran to the edge and looked down. It was about two meters deep. Nam sat below, crying but unhurt.
“Big brother, help me!” Nam called up.
Sung looked down and his heart sank. His legs shook. His hands went cold.
He looked around. No rope. No one else nearby. Just a stack of rocks leading down like uneven steps.
“I’m afraid of heights,” Sung whispered to himself. Then he added, “But my sister needs me.”
He placed his foot on the first rock, gripping the stone beside him tightly. His legs trembled, but he didn’t pull back.
Second rock. Third rock. With each one, he paused to catch his breath before stepping further.
At the bottom, Sung stood beside Nam. His hands were still shaking, but he managed a smile for his sister.
“You came down,” Nam said through her tears.
“I did,” Sung said. “Now let’s climb up together. Slowly.”
He took his sister’s hand and helped her up, rock by rock. His legs trembled, his heart raced, but he never stopped.
When they reached the top, the two of them sat down on the grass. Sung was so exhausted his hands were still shaking.
But inside, he felt something he had never felt before — his fear hadn’t disappeared, but he had found a way past it when something bigger was at stake.
Moral: Fear doesn’t vanish on its own. But when we find something that matters more than our fear, we discover we can rise above it. Love and care are stronger forces than any fear.
