Dad lost his job at the bank when I was 13. We were so poor that some days, I’d go to school without food. One day, on my way home, I saw Dad in a really nice red car with a blonde girl beside him.
The next day, I waited at the same spot and saw them again, in the same car. This time, I followed them, and to my horror, they stopped, and I saw the woman hugging my dad.
That night, I confronted him. He turned to me, and suddenly I saw his eyes become teary. He said, “Son, I’ve been working as a driving instructor to help pay for our family.” I asked him and Mom why they hadn’t told me. She explained that they didn’t want to add to my worries.
Ever since Dad lost his job, I knew he’d been working double shifts at a fast food joint, and I was always concerned about his health, which was already fragile. They knew I’d worry even more if I found out he was taking on another job. My parents were trying to protect me.
I’ll always remember them as the most devoted Mom and Dad a kid could ask for, both for me and my four siblings. It taught me an unforgettable lesson: never be quick to judge and never jump to conclusions.