Until I was 15, I used to think that I'm really lucky to have a father like my daddy. I'm proud of him so much.
When I went to events with my dad, I always felt like a star. People would praise me in front of him. Although in retrospect I don't know if they were being sincere, their praise made me think that I was a really super star and I swelled with pride. But if I were a star, then my father would be the Sun, extremely bright. My father commanded a respect that extended beyond his prestigious position at work. He is very charismatic, and brims with such confidence at wit that people cannot help but want to listen to him. He also has a reputation for kindness and reliability, and anyone who knows him cannot help but trust him. Even when people talked about me, it was always as "Mr. Hai's Son."
At the age of 16, I changed my mind. Sometimes I even wish that I had another father, everyone but not him.
Returning to the real life, I realize that without my dad, I was nothing, was no one. Maybe for some of my teachers and friends, I stood out thanks to my grades and sociability. But without my dad, people just considered me a normal boy. And I came to realize that, even when I was with him, the praise I received had little to do with me. No one knew anything about my abilities; the only thing they saw was just my father, not me. That hurt my feelings. And I had to admit that I was not as charming as my father. I was often shy and diffident in front of others. So I was never really the "star" of the party at all. Sometimes I often wonder whether people see the light from a star because it is the light of star itself, or the light from the Sun and the Star is just a thing which absorbs it. Then I suddenly realized a more painful fact: that without my father-the sun, I was just a normal boy, like a gelid planet, dark and unknown.
Gradually, I got fed up with being called "Mr. Hai's Son" I hated being covered up by my dad's shadow. I wanted to overcome it. I wanted to be respected for my own achievements, for my own ability. I wanted to shine on my own.
At that time, I learned about a great scholarship for high school students. Finally, I thought, this was my chance to be a star, I studied crazily to get that scholarship, but I came down with a serious flu right before the test, and couldn't take it. My dream had vanished.
..
Coming the age 17, I have to think about my daddy again. He's the best father I've had.
No one could cheer me up during these days, even my best friends. Even after I had recovered, I stayed in bed, pretending to still be sick. Feelings of failure tortured me; I hid away like a snail in his shell. I was very surprised that my dad was the one who got me out of that state. After listening my whole story, he sniggered He took me out of my bed and took me to a place where I never thought we would go: a karate class.
To my surprise, he signed up to do karate with me. These exercises were fun, but hard. Often, it was frustrating and painful. I found it strange that, not only did I not hate the difficult class, I actually loved it. But strangest of all was that my dad was right there but no one knew how great he was. He maybe really special and attractive but in "karate club", he was normal just like me and anyone else. No one could stand in front of me and see my father. For me, it was truly liberating. In a new environment, I was like a fish in the water; I seemed to be free; I could be myself. At last, I could show my ability. And since I was spending more as equals, I was becoming more confident in myself. I felt really better than ever. My friends said that I was different from the way I had been three months before; I was more confident. More surprisingly, I was even beginning to earn the respect of my karate teacher, who selected me to compete in the Professional Contest. Ignoring my fear that I could lose, he persuaded me to go. I was not sure if I could handle it. Beyond my expectation, I got all the way to the semifinal before being defeated. It was so really weird that, standing in the arena as a loser, I didn't feel ashamed or like a failure; I was not the least bit sad because I knew I tried my best, and for the first time, that felt like enough. I could feel people gazing at me admiringly. I knew that people were looking at me, not my dad, even he was right there, too. I was truly bright. Maybe my light was not bright as my dad's light, but it shone nonetheless. And I knew my father standing there, with a smile on his face, was completely proud, that made me feel happy.
After all, I suddenly realized that I had been a jerk: it was my dad who helped me gain this, not myself alone. And I know that, wherever I go, my father's always right there, watch me carefully and help me anytime I need. It's like the Sun and the Star, wherever the star move, the Sun is still there, not so far, but keeps an enough distance to watch the Star move by a gravitational force, like my dad's love for me.
When I went to events with my dad, I always felt like a star. People would praise me in front of him. Although in retrospect I don't know if they were being sincere, their praise made me think that I was a really super star and I swelled with pride. But if I were a star, then my father would be the Sun, extremely bright. My father commanded a respect that extended beyond his prestigious position at work. He is very charismatic, and brims with such confidence at wit that people cannot help but want to listen to him. He also has a reputation for kindness and reliability, and anyone who knows him cannot help but trust him. Even when people talked about me, it was always as "Mr. Hai's Son."
At the age of 16, I changed my mind. Sometimes I even wish that I had another father, everyone but not him.
Returning to the real life, I realize that without my dad, I was nothing, was no one. Maybe for some of my teachers and friends, I stood out thanks to my grades and sociability. But without my dad, people just considered me a normal boy. And I came to realize that, even when I was with him, the praise I received had little to do with me. No one knew anything about my abilities; the only thing they saw was just my father, not me. That hurt my feelings. And I had to admit that I was not as charming as my father. I was often shy and diffident in front of others. So I was never really the "star" of the party at all. Sometimes I often wonder whether people see the light from a star because it is the light of star itself, or the light from the Sun and the Star is just a thing which absorbs it. Then I suddenly realized a more painful fact: that without my father-the sun, I was just a normal boy, like a gelid planet, dark and unknown.
Gradually, I got fed up with being called "Mr. Hai's Son" I hated being covered up by my dad's shadow. I wanted to overcome it. I wanted to be respected for my own achievements, for my own ability. I wanted to shine on my own.
At that time, I learned about a great scholarship for high school students. Finally, I thought, this was my chance to be a star, I studied crazily to get that scholarship, but I came down with a serious flu right before the test, and couldn't take it. My dream had vanished.
..
Coming the age 17, I have to think about my daddy again. He's the best father I've had.
No one could cheer me up during these days, even my best friends. Even after I had recovered, I stayed in bed, pretending to still be sick. Feelings of failure tortured me; I hid away like a snail in his shell. I was very surprised that my dad was the one who got me out of that state. After listening my whole story, he sniggered He took me out of my bed and took me to a place where I never thought we would go: a karate class.
To my surprise, he signed up to do karate with me. These exercises were fun, but hard. Often, it was frustrating and painful. I found it strange that, not only did I not hate the difficult class, I actually loved it. But strangest of all was that my dad was right there but no one knew how great he was. He maybe really special and attractive but in "karate club", he was normal just like me and anyone else. No one could stand in front of me and see my father. For me, it was truly liberating. In a new environment, I was like a fish in the water; I seemed to be free; I could be myself. At last, I could show my ability. And since I was spending more as equals, I was becoming more confident in myself. I felt really better than ever. My friends said that I was different from the way I had been three months before; I was more confident. More surprisingly, I was even beginning to earn the respect of my karate teacher, who selected me to compete in the Professional Contest. Ignoring my fear that I could lose, he persuaded me to go. I was not sure if I could handle it. Beyond my expectation, I got all the way to the semifinal before being defeated. It was so really weird that, standing in the arena as a loser, I didn't feel ashamed or like a failure; I was not the least bit sad because I knew I tried my best, and for the first time, that felt like enough. I could feel people gazing at me admiringly. I knew that people were looking at me, not my dad, even he was right there, too. I was truly bright. Maybe my light was not bright as my dad's light, but it shone nonetheless. And I knew my father standing there, with a smile on his face, was completely proud, that made me feel happy.
After all, I suddenly realized that I had been a jerk: it was my dad who helped me gain this, not myself alone. And I know that, wherever I go, my father's always right there, watch me carefully and help me anytime I need. It's like the Sun and the Star, wherever the star move, the Sun is still there, not so far, but keeps an enough distance to watch the Star move by a gravitational force, like my dad's love for me.
