It sounds trite, but my father was a great guy. Lacking sophistication, but not
dedication, he supported us in a comfortable home, while he worked in a filthy
factory. After ten hours of standing at a noisy machine and inhaling clouds of
toxic dust, he came home cheerful and loving, without self-pity or resentment.

One day, my father surprised me with a bicycle he built from spare parts that
he found in the basement of our tenement. I loved that multi-colored bike,
because my father built it for me with his hands and his heart. God, thank you
for my father. Now I know what to expect from You.

Competing interests:
None declared