My family and I are from Brazil, and I am the oldest son. Growing up, we went through every situation together. When we had big problems or small problems, we had just to make a call to friends and family, and they would immediately come help us. Our community was very close and was always coming together in hard moments.

When I was probably nine or ten years old, I started to understand and see how my mother and father constantly helped everyone, how they loved helping people. They are like superheroes. Back then my father had a restaurant because he loved to cook.

I was in 4th grade and one day I left school and went to the restaurant. When I arrived, I saw many people in line outside of the restaurant and I saw my father giving food to homeless people. He did this for many years until he closed the restaurant.

I also remember a time when my father employed a drug addict to paint our house. My mother was worried and told my father if he did something wrong that it was his fault because she was trying just to protect us (you know mothers). But when the man was in our house working, my father would always be talking with him and giving advice. After a few months working in our house and talking, my father convinced him to change and helped him to find a job.

But this all changed when we arrived here to America. My grandpa in Brazil got sick with cancer a year ago, and my family in Brazil wanted us to help to take care of him. But we were far away. We are immigrants here, and we could not go back.

My grandpa was born in Brazil, and he was a brilliant pharmacist and a hard worker He loved us, his grandchildren, and would do almost anything we asked of him. He was a very patient man and loved to help others.

Last summer, one afternoon, my mom sat me down on the sofa. Quietly she told me that my grandfather had died of cancer. I said nothing. I just cried inside of my soul. I felt that I could not cry in front of her because I had to be strong and help my mother. I remember thinking, “What are we going to do now?” Two years before, her mother, my grandmother, had died of cancer, and we could do nothing to help with the funeral because we had just moved to the U.S. And now this had happened. All I could do was give my mom a big hug. I was in shock. I wanted to see my grandpa again and I could not say anything. Then my mom went to her room to cry. I felt like someone had taken a part of my heart. I had never seen my mom cry like that.

Many months passed and my mom was very sad. One day my family and I saw my mom sitting on the sofa, still very very sad. I went over to her and told her, “Mom, you can count on us. I’ll always try to help you.” And then my sister, my father, and I all gave her a big hug.

I am almost 17 years old and I feel that I need to do everything to support my mom. It’s the least I can do. She has always done everything for me. Every day I try to make her happy, I try to make her laugh. Every day I try to make jokes at home to make everyone smile. My parents have taught me how important it is to help others. I hope I can help everyone who is part of my journey. I want to be like a superhero and one day be like my parents.

© Gustavo. All rights reserved. If you are interested in quoting this story, contact the national team and we can put you in touch with the author’s teacher.