I’m No Hero
“Sir, excuse me,” said a young boy, running down the street with a look of urgency on his face. Veteran Phil moved out of the way, his eyes fixed on the boy’s determined expression. But as he continued walking, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was amiss.
It wasn’t long before Veteran Phil saw the boy talking to a disabled man in a wheelchair, and his instincts told him to intervene. The boy’s words were laced with impatience and disrespect, and Veteran Phil’s heart went out to the disabled man, who was struggling to free his stuck wheel.
“You are going too slow,” the boy said, his voice dripping with annoyance. “I am in a hurry. Get out of my way.”
“I am trying,” the disabled man replied, his voice laced with frustration. “My wheel seems to be stuck. A little help would be nice.”
“Why should I?” the boy asked, his tone rude and unyielding.
“Because I fought in the war for your freedom,” the disabled man said, his eyes flashing with a mix of sadness and pride. “I am a veteran. Show some respect.”
Veteran Phil’s eyes widened in recognition as he approached the pair. “This man was my commanding officer,” he said, his voice filled with reverence. “The reason I am walking around today is because this man sacrificed his own safety and saved my life and most likely a lot of others.”
“Veteran Phil,” Ollie said, a warm smile spreading across his face. “You look well.”
“Only because of you,” Veteran Phil replied, his eyes shining with gratitude as he moved to free Ollie’s stuck wheel.
But before he could do so, the young boy stepped forward, his face etched with remorse. “Let me do that,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
As the boy gently pushed Ollie’s wheelchair, Veteran Phil couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride and hope. Maybe, just maybe, this young generation would learn to appreciate the sacrifices of those who came before them.
“Thank you, young man,” Ollie said, his eyes twinkling with appreciation.
Just then, a woman called out, her voice warm and urgent. “James, come on, we are going to be late!”
“I was just helping my new friend, Ollie,” James replied, his eyes shining with newfound understanding. “He was a hero in the war.”
“I am no hero,” Ollie protested, his face flushing with humility. “I was just doing my duty to this country.”
“I definitely appreciate what you sacrificed for us,” James’ mother said, her voice filled with gratitude.
As James and his mother bid farewell and continued on their way, Veteran Phil turned to Ollie with a question that had been bothering him. “The fact that you don’t consider yourself a hero, after all these years,” he said, his voice laced with concern. “That bothers me.”
Ollie’s smile was warm and gentle. “I was just doing my job,” he said, his eyes sparkling with a sense of peace.
And in that moment, Veteran Phil knew that Ollie’s humility was a testament to his true heroism. He placed a hand on Ollie’s shoulder, his heart filled with admiration and respect. “You may not consider yourself a hero, Ollie,” he said, his voice filled with emotion. “But to me, and to so many others, you will always be a true Canadian hero.”
Moral of this Story:
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