Page 63 - Reading and Writing 6

Listen and Read

My Soldier Hero

My dear grandchildren,

You have always asked me to tell you the story of my favourite hero.
My eldest brother is the person who best understood the people around him and knew
the true meaning of life. He made us all happy. He was the person I cherished the most
and the person who knew how to put a smile on my face when I was going through a
difficult time.

My hero was a good listener, reader, and conversationalist, and he readily shared
everything he learned or thought with his family. Wiser than his age, and more mature
than his contemporaries when he was growing up, my brother Harry paid close attention
to his younger siblings – Claire, Laura, and me.

With unusual empathy, he was an arm-around-the-shoulder kind of older brother,
comforting us in our moments of worry, pain, and anxiety, and celebrating with us
our joys. He also brought us down to earth when we became too elated or agitated.
But it was the way he counselled or cautioned us that was so effective. He would use
analogies from historical figures or cite his own previous mistakes so that we could learn
from them. In so doing, he gave us larger frames of reference, which a narrowly-focused
preteen or early teenager often needs.

Many, many years ago, on a warm September afternoon, I was rushing home from
school and could not wait to watch the football match on TV. It was Liverpool versus
Manchester United. When I reached home, however, my mother and sisters were crying,
and my father was comforting them. My eldest brother wanted to join the army and
become a naval officer. Mummy’s brother, Uncle Tim, had died the previous year in the
army, and she was afraid of losing her son at war as well. When I asked my brother why
he wanted to go, he replied, “Well, Adele, I want to serve my country.” My brother was a
selfless person, always ready to jump into the fire for others.
Harry left home a few weeks later, and things went on as usual, although the house was
quieter without him. One night, when we were having dinner, there was a knock at the
door. It was Harry! He had come to surprise us! I have never felt so much joy in seeing
my brother. Harry told us that he was going to join the war in two days. This time, it was
even harder to say goodbye. I could not say it aloud, but I wondered whether we would
see Harry again. Mummy, too, was miserable when my brother left. We missed him
even more.
Three months later, it was time for Christmas. At Christmas, the whole extended family
came together, and Mummy cooked Harry’s favourite food. Seeing his empty chair
at the dinner table, Mummy burst into tears. However, a few minutes later, the house
phone rang. It was Harry. He had called to tell us that he had received the gallantry
award for saving the lives of three other soldiers in the war. This time, Mummy cried tears
of joy. It was a moment of pride for everyone. My brother was a real hero with an award,
but he had always been a hero to me. This is the story of my one and only real-life hero.

With love,
Grandma Adele
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