Hello Hive Learners, how are you guys today...?, i hope everyone is so exciting to following the new contest.
Edited from Logo Maker app
The week 13 contest has just ended and in the past week 13 we can see the excitement of the contest titles given. Many members are interested in making contest posts, and so am I. And congrats to the winners in the previous contests, you guys so amazing.
This time, we have entered week 14 and as you know, there will be a lot more fun this week. As previously announced, the title of the first editions of the 14th week is titled Hero, and in this issue I am required to make a post about the heroes I've seen in my life. Luckily I have an interesting story about it, so if you want to know, let's read carefully.
Edited from Logo Maker app
Hero's words are words that we have often heard, both when we were young and when we were adults. When we were kids Hero referred to a bunch of toys that were in a cardboard box or in a drawer that we played with our friends and we didn't allow anyone to touch them without our knowledge. Hero's words also refer to various animated characters or cartoons that we idolized when we were little, both in the form of animated cartoons, fairy tales, and even animations in the games we often played when we were little. Because when we were young, the Hero for us as a child was a hero who had the ability to save the earth from evil and of course the monsters, functionally it was not wrong, but the view of the Hero figure when we were small to adults is certainly very different. When we grow up, we know the true figure of the Hero, even more so when our safety is threatened and there is someone who helps us and that person is what we consider a Hero.
I also have a dark story about this, where the hero here is my father who tried his best to save me from dangerous things, and at that time I was still in elementary school and still didn't know anything. For that, I will tell the story of me and my father in this post.
This story happened in 2004 ago, about 18 years ago. At that time, Indonesia was experiencing a prolonged internal conflict between the government and the rebels, the incident took place in the province of Aceh, which is where I live. The armed conflict that took place there was so terrible that we were afraid to go out even during the day, and at that time I was still in 3rd grade and knew nothing about this. Throughout the year we were terrorized with gunshots everywhere which caused us to lie down immediately when the shooting occurred, especially at night, no one still dared to be outside the house after 10 pm because at that time a curfew was imposed. Power outages have become routine, and they happen very often even at night, and it really was a very scary year for us.
Until one night, I decided to follow my father to pray at the mosque which is located not far from my house, about 1 Kilometer. At first it was as usual that night, quiet and dark because there was a blackout at that time and visibility was only a few meters. Everything went normally until we performed the Isha prayer in congregation at the mosque, and some of the worshipers had left the mosque. My father and I were just about to leave our place and suddenly, gunshots broke out all around the mosque and one of the bullets managed to break one of the windows of the mosque. We were very surprised, because the war was happening so close to us, we were really in danger that night, and I was one of the children who were still in elementary school who was in the middle of the war.
That night the war in my place was getting worse, the people in the mosque couldn't go anywhere including my father and I who were trapped in it. The power outage made matters worse and everyone could only pray for their own safety that night. It wasn't long before the electricity came on and luckily the shooting died down a bit before getting worse again. It was at that brief moment that my father picked me up and ran out of the mosque to my house. Incidentally, the road to the mosque that we usually use is the wide main road, because my father thought that was where the shooting came from, so he took the initiative to find a small path through alleys and alleys to get to the house. I also saw several teenagers who were hit by shards of glass on the side of their heads when the mosque's glass was shattered by bullets, and the sight was very scary for me who was very young. My father and I were in and out of the hall in a hail of bullets, and luckily we made it home safely. We didn't know the condition of those still in the mosque until the morning and I was still terrified about it in the weeks following the incident.
We may have survived because my father insisted on saving me from the middle of the war, he tried his best to run and try to bring me home in the midst of the onslaught of bullets. As a good father, he is responsible for my safety even though he has to take a very dangerous risk because of it. He didn't care about his safety at all, all he thought about was how I could get home safely. And maybe because of that, I can still breathe until now.
It was an incident that almost put me in danger, but my father was there and tried his best to save me from danger. My father is my Hero.
Special thanks to :
I'd like to invite my friend to follow this contest :