In the world we live in, it is the tragic yet ordinary truth that heroes are a dying breed. In a time when corruption has taken over our lives, there are less and less people who we can count on to save us from the darkness. I am in no way implying that some supernatural force is supposed to fly off the pages of a comic book and come save us from our own self destruction. I know that that will never happen. What I am saying is that there are heroes out there, and as the times change I have witness them dwindle off into near extinction. Again, a hero is not someone with superhuman strength, or someone who can fly, or even someone that does the right thing 100% of the time. I understand that we are all human, and by our human nature we are all doomed to make mistakes. A hero, as defined by google, is a person who is admired or idealized for courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities. Let's break this down even further, a heroic person, by their nature, is brave and moral. However, to be a true hero I believe you have to be much more than that. A hero should put others before themselves, do things for the greater good, be looked up to, make a difference, be known for the difference that they make, and make sacrifices to help others. They should be someone that you can feel safe around. A hero makes the darkness of the world a little lighter in their presence. Put simply, a true hero makes the world a better place.
Why do I care so much about this? Well, earlier this week I was looking through old bits and pieces of my writing, trying to find a source of fuel for a new piece, when I stumbled across a long forgotten letter to my freshman english teacher. He had asked us to write about who our hero was. All lot about me has changed in the years since I wrote that letter. For starters when I wrote it I was a freshman in highschool, now I am a freshman in college, infinitely more mature and on the brink of a future that I could not have imagined back then. When I wrote this letter, I had just been introduced to the world of writing, scribbling my thoughts in a fashion that seems quite broken now, as a college student and aspiring professional writer. It seems that this letter was written by a completely different person; however one thing has not changed in the slightest. I wrote about my father. And now as I try to reconstruct my adolescent thoughts into a meaningful work, I remain just as sure as I was then that he is, and always will be, my hero. He has an old soul, one made to pure for the conditions of our world. He has arms of steel, ones that can lift up the pieces of your life and put them back together after you crumble. He has a heart of gold, one that is able to feel deeply and vastly, the emotions of others. My father is my inspiration. I look up to him like a lost soul looks up to the stars, with awe, admiration, and the hope that I will one day become even a fraction as great as he is.
For the greater part of his life, my father has dedicated himself to the protection of others, he joined the fire department while still in high school, then he went on to become a highly beloved and respected captain in our town. He later stepped down from his position to pursue firefighting as a career in Portland, enduring physical and written exams throughout rookie school. For a good number of years he worked as a firefighter and the Portland Jetport tending to multiple plane crashes and to medical emergencies within the Jetport as well. In these years his captain nominated him for a hometown hero award for all of the handwork and dedication that he had shown in his day to day life as well as the sheer talent and skill he showed in his craft. My father is the most selfless person I know, he would never put himself before others, maybe this is due to his profession, but I believe it is also due to the pureness of his heart. Whenever he runs into a burning building, there is always the chance that he might not make it back out. But still, he does it, without a second thought. He is selfless to a fault, and I wouldn't have him any other way. He has received many recognitions in his time working as a firefighter, but none of this means more to him that a plaque on the wall. He doesn't do what he does for the fame or the glory. He does it because he wants to help people, because he is good at his very core. He wants nothing more than the chance to save a life, to make a difference.
It still takes my breath away to think about all that my dad is, the gargantuan impact he has made in this world, the countless lives he has saved, and his never ending drive to go above and beyond the call of duty. To me and my younger sister, he always seemed like a work of the heavens. He was second to none. He could do no wrong. He was strong and steady, stern because hard work had made him so, and loving to us always. He was a hero, my hero. The man who could pick me up and save me from anything, the man who I could depend on always and forever because he would always be there with his big arms to wrap me tight in. I feel safer in those arms than I do anywhere else on the face of this earth. I find comfort in the beating of his heart when he holds me close, and I find hope in the warmth of his embrace, never wanting it to end. My dad would do anything for me, and he is one of the best people I know. I am proud to be his daughter. I am truly blessed to know him and to have him in my life.
My dad is an amazing person, but what makes him that much more awe inspiring is the fact that he is among a small percentage of the human race. In a generation of snapchats and instagram pictures; texting, and boys who “only want one thing”, it's hard to imagine finding an individual like my dad. An individual who would sacrifice himself for others, who is driven, hardworking, and kind. A person made up of honorable morals and the goddess that drives one person to help another. It's hard to imagine finding an ordinary, everyday hero. In this day and age I find that hatred is trying to consume us, and consequently I hope that more people strive to be heroes. Because however insurmountable the task might sound, being a hero on earth is possible, I know this for a fact. And just like that lost soul who looks up at the stars when they feel hopeless, I look to the righteousness of the man who stands before me. In a world that's growing more cruel and dark by the second, I look to my dad, the hero!
