Violet loves bugs. She runs after them and picks them up. She brings me "cute" little pill bugs, ants, and most recently........bees.
Yes, bees. Your standard, stinger-enforced, black & yellow, fuzzy bumblebee. She follows them around our clover-ridden lawn, coaxing them to stand still, please, and tries to pick them up. One day she succeeded. She brought me a mysterious handful of something, and said, "Here, Mom, here ya go." I took it, unknowingly, felt it buzzing, and then frantically started flapping my hands. "Oh, goodness!!!! It's a bee!!"
I immediately tried to downplay it, since fear of bees is not necessary. They're not really out to get you, just.....pollen. 'Course, in my childhood, I stepped on so many barefooted (not to mention being stung into infinity when a farm-hand mowed over a ground-hornet's nest in front of me and my dad) that I have a horrible fear of them. So, having no background like that, she's still not afraid of them.
Here she is, following them around hoping one will land.
Here she's picking one up.
Later, she did get stung by one. I watched her through the window, she reached for it and drew her hand back sharply. No tears, though, she just looked concerned. She sat there a minute, then came inside squeezing her finger. "He pinched me." is all she said.
My little fearless girl!