My Papa is a Hero!

My Papa is a hero! He's been with me for as long I can remember. I used to not see him very often, though. His work made him travel long distances without coming home until the evening. Sometimes, he leaves before the sun rises—I wonder how he does it.

My Papa always knows how to cheer me up. One time, Mama scolded me and it made me start sobbing. It took longer than expected for me to quiet down; eventually, I started sulking and hiding under the blankets. My Mama tried to pry me out from under the covers, but I just didn't budge. She left me alone, which only made me resent her that day. It wasn't until Papa came home later that evening that I finally emerged from the blankets.

After talking with Mama, he asked me, “Why were you crying?”

His question made me start crying again. I don't like recalling bad memories, yet I told him what happened earlier that day. The words that left me weren't understandable—each new syllable was followed by a sob or a hiccup. My face was flushed, with stray hair sticking to my cheeks—it was practically laughable how messy I looked.

Papa only smiled and ruffled my hair. Then, he said my favorite words: “Gusto mo ng Jollibee? Bilhan kita ng favorite mo—yung burger steak.”

Almost immediately, I stopped crying. I showed him one of my biggest smiles as I nodded furiously.

“Yes please! Thank you, Papa.” I hugged him as he wiped away my tears with his calloused hands.

He could only laugh as he got ready to go out. He made small talk with Mama before he went out, bidding a temporary farewell as he kissed her.

My Papa is a hero. He brings me to the firefighter base right across our house. I like it there; I get to see miniature versions of the numerous firetrucks parked near us. I also get to sit on the office chair and spin around as much as I want! Besides that, there are more things that I like about this place.

I like how I can get to know Papa's friends. They are all so friendly—they are all like Papa, heroes too!

After staying so long at the firefighters’ base, I've come to know several terms they use. I know which signals mean there is a fire alert, which ones are used to verify a blaze, and I even know their callsigns.

So when Papa scurries me back home after the radio buzzes to life, I know there is a fire nearby. I say nothing and bid Papa goodbye before going inside.

Inside my house, I know I'm safe. My Papa keeps us safe, but he isn't here right now—he's keeping others safe!

At the same time, I hear the blaring sirens of a firetruck. They are so loud that they immediately pierce my eardrums. I have to shut my eyes tightly and use my index fingers to plug my ears.

From inside my home, I imagine Papa's friends rushing to retrieve their armor that shields them from the flames: their bunker gear. Some of them don't even have the time to properly wear it; they immediately rush over to the fire truck and finish dressing during the journey. Every second they waste is another second a family might be closer to death—that is a thought I can’t bear to imagine.

I picture the flames of the fire: an angry red, an unforgiving orange, and a yellow that devours. It is like a hungered beast—eating away at everything it can and engulfing all in its path. I can only think of the blistering heat of its angered trail. I wonder how Papa and his friends can take the intense heat every time they do it. They must be sweating immensely inside their gear.

Papa didn’t get home till night that day. When he did, his face was covered in soot. He had already left his bunker gear at the base, planning to shower when he was home. Despite his dirtied figure, I rushed over and hugged him.

“Hi Papa!”

He doesn't let me see that he's exhausted from the fire; instead, he immediately grins softly before trying to push me away gently, “Doon ka muna. Madumi pa si Papa.”

But even so, I held on—just like he does when faced with problems during their service. He puts on a tough face and thinks while he is on the move. He has to, after all; he must stay strong for the people he saves time and time again.

My Papa is a firefighter.

He becomes a hero with every inferno he faces. His gentle demeanor toughens in the face of danger and faces it head-on. He saves multiple lives, risking his own every time he rushes into a burning building.

Despite it all, he makes it his top priority to come home to us every day. Whether he is covered in soot or drenched in sweat from the heat—

My Papa is a hero!