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Remembering a Hero
The scorching desert sun was beating down on me as I calmly watched them take my grandpa away from me. I was 7 years old, I didn’t know what death was, I didn’t believe that my grandpa was really gone. Seeing my grandma draped over my grandpa's coffin, unable to process that her husband, the love of her life has been taken from her, a wave of fear creeped through my body.
Whenever I was around my grandpa I always felt safe, but seeing him in that cold, confined coffin he couldn’t protect me anymore. My grandpa was a strong man, my memories of him are very young but when I was with him it always felt like I was with a best friend. He had this welcoming face, that you couldn’t help but grin whenever he would smile. He lit up the room every time he walked in, he was a very happy man that would never raise his voice at anyone no matter how angry he got. My favorite memory of my grandpa and I was when he would play dolls with me, he would do anything to just make me smile. My prized possession were my dolls, I didn’t let anyone touch them except for my grandpa. He would make them come alive and make my 5 year old dreams come true.
As I got older and even closer to my grandpa, he told me stories of his life during the war. He made every story so exciting that I would get the chills. My grandpa along with his family were living in Poland during World War II, and the story he told me that when I think about it, I still get the chills. It was a story I will never forget. My grandpa’s father and brother were taken by the Nazi’s from the streets and brought to Auschwitz concentration camp. They were there for months and my grandpa’s brother ended up dying there. My great grandpa however escaped and found a ride to get close to his town where he lived. After his ride dropped him off he had to walk the rest of the way back, which was almost a day of walking. He barely made it to his house, he was trying to stay alive. But unfortunately he was so malnourished that he ended up dying on the steps of his house. That story will stick with me forever. My grandpa came from a very strong family, and he always taught me even as a young kid to be tough and to never give up on anything. I will forever remember these life lessons my grandpa told me because even though I was young when he told me and I didn’t understand it at the time, now I’m so grateful for what he told me because I will hold on to these for the rest of my life.
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