Proud of my Dad

The story in the Park

When I was a kid, I liked playing alone. I do not need to have friends, no games, no tools — I can just play all by myself. Go to the park, fiddle around, collect odd stuff and so on.

So one day, I was in the park near my home and playing. I was swinging on a bar. I suddenly noticed a bunch of other kids coming towards me — first I ignored but then they started harassing me. I tried to protest but then the shower of blows caught me by surprise. If no one can beat me in something — it was running. I just flew and escaped. The only thing that caught up with me was my dented pride.

I sulked back into the house, recovering from the blows and trying to cover up my lost pride for having run away from the field.

There was another surprise when I reached home. Dad was already in — oops it was a saturday. He immediately asked me what was wrong. I tried to say nothing but the swollen lips gave me away. And then he repeated in a stern voice. That was just too much for me and tears rolled down my cheeks with my pride taking a further nose dive.

I told him.

He said, “Let’s go”. I tried to protest saying the bullies would be gone. But then my father insisted. He was already on the street when I ran started running behind him. As we reached the park, the guys were still hanging around. I can never forget what happened next. My dad shouted at the top of the voice and sprinted towards the bullies. It was a sight seeing those kids take flight and then they saw me behind my dad.

When the kids ran away, my dad just went back home and did not even look at me. I did not look at him either — I had already started swinging again on the bar. I came back home much later that day with harder, faster swings and enjoying more than usual.

That day I was proud of my dad and since then I’ve felt and still feel that he is the strongest, bravest and the most courageous man — ever.