At the tender age of 5 I fell up the concrete steps that led to my front door. The damage to my face was superficial but I did sustain a scraped nose. (Let's not talk about the damage to what pride I might have had . . . I mean falling up? I'm convinced the incident kept me from ever seeing myself as anything near athletic, thereby insuring that I stayed inside, with the air conditioner and near the fridge and launching my lifelong battle with the bulge . . . but that's another blog).
The scraped nose was severe enough that I lost freckles . . . an entire patch! And to this day, they've never returned. I have freckles between my fingers, on my knees, across my chest, and pretty much all over my face -- except for that now tiny spot.
Recently, I was trying to recall a childhood incident that shaped me. This is the one I came up with. Funny how often it's the little things.