His face is a profound study for the secrets in his pocket of tightly woven sack of fatherhood. He neither troubles nor expresses as he has learned how to manage the law of contraries alone. He never loses patience, never doubts or complains, but always hopes, and works and waits cheerfully. What makes a man Hero?
Thou will be pleased to know My existence is all about you How agelessly you were austere Ran before the wind As my fearless faithful companion
Fathers never complain, remain awake and active in carrying out their responsibilities and surely are the happiest in the end. If one doesn’t seem to need help, it is because one has a better friend, the father, to comfort and sustain during the troubles and temptations of life but one can overcome and outlive all as learn to feel the strength and tenderness of father’s existence whose love and care never tire or change, can never be taken away but becomes the source of lifelong peace, happiness, and strength. How adequately thy verdicts were All tremendously stupendous
Harmoniously handsome like a god Fair and radiantly righteous ever Thy probity endlessly long lived Empathetically empathetic
Believe this heartily that all our little cares, and hopes, and sins, and sorrows, as freely and con dingly are clung more closely to the fatherly benevolence which never means us to be weaned, but through which he draws us closer to his unconditional love and care. I treasure his forehead’s ne lines on my startled look or when I spoke sharply, rebuked me more than any words but his love, respect, and con dence to his children is the sweetest reward I could ever receive to be his daughter. I prospect that his love will make my heart to get on happily together, in a relation who needs in nite patience and care. He helps and comforts to make his children practice all the virtues of forbearance. His eyes are ever clear by many tears, and a heart softened by the tender sorrow, as his fatherhood is uneventful, unambitious, yet full of the genuine virtues which smell sweet, and blossom in the dust, the self-forgetfulness that makes the humblest on the earth as simple, sincere who seldom speaks much of his piety; shows itself in acts rather than words. Oh dear! Speaking about the father reminds me how much I miss him, how much I owe him. His children make him an old man inexorably enough, but leaving his heart and spirit young and in full strength and enthusiasm. His gray head is the impression of the old fellow's hand in giving his blessing, and every wrinkle but a notch in the quiet calendar of a well-spent life. Is it someone who is macho? He isn’t a hero Known to the world He never brags He quietly works For those he loves the most Lays his hand lightly upon those who have used him well.
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