I love storms. I love the way the sky darkens and the wind starts to build. I even love the clap of thunder and the lightening strikes (as long as they aren’t too close). I love to sit outside and watch them, but of course I go inside when things get a little too intense. Why am I not afraid?     When my sisters and I were small, a particularly violent thunderstorm started developing. Terrified, we cuddled together in the kitchen with my mother, who kept trying to distract us and keep us calm. Suddenly, my mother opened the refrigerator and pulled out several cucumbers. She started slicing them, and we all sat around the kitchen table eating cucumbers and playing games. Although we still jumped at the closest lightening strikes and the loudest thunder, we kept talking, playing...