Chasing Shadows

Little One made a discovery, swinging in the bright clear sun. She saw it, skimming over the faded wood chips, whizzing along beside Her.
"That?!" She asked me, all giddy.
"That's your shadow, Little One. Sha-dow."
Little One was delighted. "SHAA! SHAA!"
We had a lot of fun, waving at our shadows and watching them wave back. Kicking legs from the swing and watching Shadow kick it's legs too. "Look Little One! Mommy's shadow is blowing you kisses!"
"Yaaaaaaaay!"
But.....ahem. Perhaps I personified the shadow a bit too much.
Because when She got out of the swing something terrible happened. The shadow. It got Her! It grabbed onto Her feet! And try as She may- running off, kicking it, jumping, sitting down and trying to yank it off- it would not let go.
Mommy eventually saved Her from the complete meltdown of terror. Apparently mommies and daddies can scare the shadow into letting go when they pick Her up. She has learned that. So She knows who to turn to now when the Shadow attacks.
Because, unfortunately, the thing stalks Her.
She'll be out just minding Her own business, playing in the park or the back yard, and suddenly! There it is! Clamped onto Her toes again! Even taking off Her shoes and running away doesn't stop this thing. It follows Her.
We are working on convincing Her that Shadow can't hurt Her. It's hard when She's got tears streaming down Her cheeks and She's clawing Her way up my leg. Suggestions are welcom, Peanuts. Bring them on! Because I want Her to know that She can't run up mommy's back to escape Her problems; She has to face them! I want Her to learn that the Unknown is not always something to be feared; I want Her to try understanding first. I want Her to be brave, and not to... well... to be afraid of Her own shadow.
At the same time, though. She is becoming so grown-up and intrepid in so many ways. She no longer peeks out from behind my skirt at the playground. Or needs my hand to turn an unfamiliar corner. The walkable world for Her is no longer limited to a 15 foot radius with me at its center. Nope. She's off and running now! Streaking towards the cluster of children by the slide, forging along the hiking trail with me- as I will be for the rest of, well, forever- trying to keep up and watching Her go further and further from me without looking back to make sure I'm still there. These things make me proud. And they make me miss Her.
So as much as I want Her to outgrow this silly little fear, this funny little misconception about a trick of light, I have to cherish the innocence of it. To treasure, in a way, the moments left in which anything is possible; jackets transmorphing into monsters behind an open closet door, shadows on the ground springing to life. And the very few moments left in which I get to be Her Sun, infused with the power to chase them all away.
I wish it could always be so.