<p>Hey I have been working on all types of essays for the past few weeks. I have written more 500 word personal pieces than I know what to do with! I keep coming back to the same topic though. The last essay I wrote is really personal and everyone I've had read it, can't quite give me an objective viewpoint because of the subject matter. I need somebody's honest and objective viewpoint/criticism. Shoot from the hip-- I need your help!</p>
<pre><code> Though some may say my father has victimized me and my family, I say he has been my fire. He has raised me up, he has inspired me, he has made me strong. In the most intimate of ways, in the deepest of love, my father has truly made me. We are one, and he is my hero.
When I was eight, my father was arrested for stealing drugs from his patients. The shame I faced from my peers and from the press could have only been a tenth of what he experienced. I could have hung my head and hid myself from the world, but I saw my father, who was brave enough to stand tall. The amazing strength it must have taken him to face his loved ones has helped me through the darkest moments of my life. Each time I feel that familiar knot of shame in my stomach, I remember the steel in my fathers eyes the first day I visited him in prison.
When my father was released from jail, I was about 12 years old. He wanted so much to recapture the years he had lost, and so did I. We spent a wonderful summer together but he fell prey to his addiction once more. The day we were separated, I thought I would surely die of a broken heart. Though he had used me and betrayed me in the crudest of ways, I saw every stab of guilt written on his face. And I still loved him. Unconditionally, with every fiber in my body I actually loved him. I know I can face any measure of pain and betrayal, because I have a love deeper than logic can explain.
After a second release from prison, my father kept his distance to overcome his problems. Like an epic hero, he faced death, sickness, and fiercer villains than fiction can create. Along the way he buried any remnant of ego to shape himself in an image that his children could be proud of. He is the purest and most selfless person I know because he has surpassed the greatest obstacles. Each day I watch him strive to be a more perfect person, and I look up to the man that he has become. When I am too tired or mentally exhausted to study for that next test, I see my fathers work ethic and I know I am capable in mind and spirit.
My father and I first bonded after our reconciliation, volunteering at a local shelter together. He gave his heart and soul to the nuns he worked for, and I knew I wanted to be that selfless person. He inspired me and encouraged me to go to Guatemala with a humanitarian-aid organization, and he showed me the virtues giving. There is not a dime in his pocket that he would not give to a stranger if they asked for it, nor is there an hour of his time that he would not sacrifice for a friend. I could not ask for a better example of a human being. If am an eighth of the person that my father is, I am truly blessed.
My hero is not perfect, and he must battle his demons like anyone else. Yet somehow, my father has managed to fight harder, become better, and live more fruitfully than any person I know. I am more humble, I love deeper, I study harder, and I give more willingly because of the spirit my father has found. I will go places in my life that my father has never reached, but I know that his strength will always be the greatest guiding force in my life.
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