A Hero

I once dreamed of being a hero. Of picking up a gun or sword and defending A child, my school, my cousins, my friends. Of going into a burning building to save A baby, a dog, a father, a mother. I dreamed that people would respect me, Would talk to me and write about me, Would want to meet me – Would want to know me. I dreamed of saving my classmates from idiots with guns. That I would be famous and loved. That I would be in history books. But now, I see. I see that’s not the case. I see that that is not the hero I want to be. I see now that you can’t save lives by taking others’. Heroes are not just Policemen, army dogs, marines, firefighters, or doctors. They are teachers, Children who wish for an education rather than a phone, People who build peaceful futures by building schools. I see now. I see that I can do more with brain than with brawn. Now that I see – I promise. I promise to use my education to benefit others. I promise to fight violence with this, and not with a gun. I have picked up one of the most precious tools. A tool, that when used properly, Can end – wars, terrorism, exploitations, racism! This tool, I promise, Will be my weapon for a child’s salvation – For the world’s salvation! This weapon I use now, And will continue to use it until I take my last breath – A pencil. Heroes can be made from guns and planes and an operating table, But that’s not for me. I am a single person in a big world, But I will not let that stop me. I am a hero with an idea. I am a hero with a pencil. But here is the real question: What kind of hero will you be?