My hero didn’t win any awards or win any money. He is neither; Batman, Superman, Spiderman, nor Professor X. He is a simple human being, like us, who has no superpowers. My hero is my father; he is a diligent worker, who works hard everyday to provide for his family.
At a young age I didn’t really have a mother figure in my life. My mother gave birth to my sister and I and left us with my grandmother. She would go and go. She was never there to see me go to my first day of preschool or any of my birthdays. I don’t hate my mother; but when my sister and I were young, she just dropped us off and never looked back.
My father was the only one that was there. He would send money every month for my sister and I. He never abandoned us like my mother. I remember that day like it was yesterday, when my father sent for my sister and I to live with him; it was the happiest day of my life. We were being rescued from living in harsh conditions and brought somewhere that we had never imagined.
In today’s society, a woman is the one who normally raises the kids, not the father. The father normally walks out on his children because he can’t take the stress or he doesn’t want kids. My father is one of those few men who stayed. He stepped up to the plate and took care of his responsibility.
I remember, one day I was up early in the morning while my dad was getting ready to leave for the laundry mat. I looked out the window and I saw him with that heavy laundry mat on his back. It broke my heart because while I was getting angry for little things, I never stopped to think why he does the things he does. On that day, I learned to appreciate the things he has done.
My father is not my hero because of the things that he has done. My father is my hero because of the way he does it. He does not complain, he is not lazy, he is always up and ready. That’s what makes him my hero. To me a true hero should not be determined by the number of awards they receive or by how strong they are, but by their true character.