Around Christmas, our family used to always go to church together. We would all get dressed up and go on Christmas Eve. It was always me, my 2 sisters, my parents, and my grandpa who always came to stay with us. We would all sit through church and then on the way out one night I asked where my dad was as we were walking out to the car. We looked over and he and some other men from church were helping holding onto the arm of older women to help them down the icy, slippery stairs. Even though the stairs were salted beforehand, they were still slippery enough where someone older could easily slip and fall. My dad was the one who along with other people stayed outside in the cold weather to make sure that everyone made it down the stairs safely. This and many, many other things make my dad a hero in my mind.
Submitted by Anonymous
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