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In my father's house was a man of great moral strength and dignity. He instinctively knew right from wrong. He was a towering man and he knew all the answers to my questions. He taught me to be honest and accepting of others. He feared no one and was protective of my mother. He was stern, but not without reason. He was gone all day. When he returned at night, the lines of a hard day's work were etched in his face. Still, he always had a hug for my mother, a smile and a chat for me. He taught me that failure was okay, as long as one made the effort. He told me success wasn't measured by a paycheck. At night he would smile, tousle my hair and tell me to sleep well. I often heard him laugh and never saw him cry. He knew more about baseball than any man alive. He gave me the greatest of gifts, his love. One day when I was twelve, he died. It was the only thing he ever did wrong... |
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