Who Is The Most Powerful Man Of Faith? Essay

Anyone that came in contact with him, could tell that was his biggest and most honorable trait. He knew when enough was enough, he knew when to leave the bar, and he also knew when his granddaughters wanted attention and affection from him. Growing up across the street from my grandpa, I was able to watch and observe him go through many stages of life. He was my biggest trainer of moderation, self-discipline, and love. He may not have always stopped when others thought he should and he may not have spent as much time with us as we thought we deserved, but he knew the right things to do for himself or other. I was so easily influenced as a child, that I was affected by the right and wrong things I would see happening. While my grandpa didn’t always do the right thing, he always showed me how it was wrong and what I could do to make it

He had a big, deep voice, and thinning gray hair. His eyes were big and friendly. He was in no way a fancy man. He used to live in Brooklyn, and even among all of the designer outfits, he always preferred a simple t-shirt and sweatpants with a pair of worker’s boots. He lived his life however he wanted, even if it would embarrass those around him. No matter, he was a loving man, and he always had time for his family. He was never too busy with work or his social life to relax with us for a little while. These traits all came together to give him a lively, impish, and extremely loving personality. They made him my Grandpa.

What I learned and understood about my father through conversations with my older siblings was about the impact of the loss of my grandfather (my father’s father) at an early age, heavy responsibilities taken on at an early age (hardship of the Depression era) to help support his mother and younger siblings. This led him to a strong sense of responsibility and a deep faith. But it all made him seem emotionally unavailable. The hard times for black families dealing with racial discrimination and the horrors of Jim Crow led to strictness that he, in all likelihood, felt was necessary for the survival of his children. There simply was no place for lighthearted fun. This greater understanding led to a stronger connection with my father, and an appreciation for such things as his devotion to having taken care of his family, his integrity, compassion for those less fortunate than himself, and the commitment as a deacon and Sunday school teacher.

Right when I walked through the door, I got a burst of happiness. I felt safe, warm, and loved. The house smelled just like a fresh batch of moist, delicious brownies right out of the oven. There wasn't a single time I walked through the door and felt disappointed or sad. This feeling is just one of the many reasons my grandma had a huge impact on my life.

I lived in a small trailer home with my mom, dad, older brother and younger brother. I loved that little trailer, even if it was not the best, I still called it home. Even though I loved that place, there were times when I noticed that my parents would struggle financially and they wanted us to have more than a little home, they wanted the best for us. There were also personal difficult obstacles we had to overcome as a family. As a result, my mom went back into college to study for a Registered Nurse. I didn’t spend as much time with my mom as one child wishes they could, but I knew she was working lots of hours and going to class just to be able to give us the life she thought we deserved. The same applies for my dad, I knew he would come home from work in pain, exhausted, but he was doing it all for his kids. As I was growing up and noticing these things about them, I began to admire them and loved how

We were living at my uncle’s house in California. I shared a bedroom with 3 other kids including my brother. I didn’t mind sharing a room because it was always better than my house in Mexico where I didn’t even have a bedroom! My father at the time was working for Construction Company and my mother stayed at the house. My parents had been saving every penny they could so that we were able to buy a house for ourselves. My father has always been a hardworking man. I just love how he is a very optimistic and motivational person. Every time he came home he would always be in such a positive and energetic mood no matter what the circumstances were. Life was good at the moment, until I had started my first year of school

My heart leapt in my throat- I did my best to try and regulate my breathing so I wouldn’t give away my position with massive, choking gulps of air. Closing my eyes, I tried to re-collect blissful memories, ones that were far away from this state of affairs. I couldn’t calm down; this was so bad- what was I going to do? His steps were getting closer; they were getting louder. I panicked, I panicked.

Along with being supportive, my grandpa is one of the most selfless people I know. Whenever my family needs help with anything he is the first person we call because we know that if anyone can do it, or is willing to do it, it’s him. My dad owns a landscaping and plowing business, so he is always wearing down his trucks, causing them to break down a lot. Papa is always up to the challenge of fixing them, even though he never has to. One thing that is really important to him is family, he has always, always put family first.

I lived with my grandmother for the first half of my life. She practically raised me. Everyone in our village would talk about how much she spoiled me. She would go out of her way to get what I needed. One day I was playing with my friends, there was food in the house but I just wanted to eat snacks. I complained and whined about it until I got what I wanted she made my uncle go all the way into the city to buy me some snacks even though I could’ve just eaten what was in the house. She was a part of me. We had so much in common. My mom wasn't unable to raise me because she was living in America.

     Due to the fact that my father was now on his own and trying to raise three children (my older brother from my father’s first marriage), he had to take a different position at his work. Although he was getting a raise it wasn’t necessarily a good thing. He had to start working the night shift so he could get the raise. He didn’t really have a choice in the matter and because of this new change, I began to lose valuable time with him as well. It was now up to my brother to watch over us at night and make sure we got to bed on time. If there was any trouble or and problems in general, my brother would call my grandmother. For three years my dad worked that job and every night he would stay up after he got home to see us. He would make my sister and I breakfast and make we were off to school on time. This meant the world to me because no matter what he always made time for us.

From the position of a carer, I can easily understand the feeling of reassurance and safety provided by knowing my grandpa is at home, in a safe environment. Particularly if his condition were to deteriorate to the point where we were uncomfortable with him leaving home at all without assistance.

After my mom divorced my father, we moved into the home of my grandparents. My mom had gotten her first job since being married to my dad and my grandma suggested that she move in so she could help care for Johan and me. Grandma had just retired; she was ready to enjoy having grandkids.

Entry #2: From my grandfather, from what I always remember from him, would be his sense of humor. He would always be happy and laughing. He disliked any sort of conflict and would rather be kept happy. He was a happy grandfather, depicting him from the stereotype of bitter old elders.

I joined a dance team at my school, which was fun because I made some amazing friends, and my brother joined basketball. Since we were always practicing, we were never home, but when we were home, I would go out and play with my neighbors because I have always been an imp ortant person and have to be doing something not to get bored, or I would go to my grandma’s house and stay over there. My grandma’s house became my second home. It was a placed where I could be comfortable, and it was where for a time I was there I felt stress-free. I also enjoyed going to her house because she spoiled me and would make delicious food every time we went. She was very old- fashioned, but that is what made her unique and I Am thankful that she was because she showed us to have manners and respected

In Philip Roth’s, “Defender of the Faith”, Sergeant Nathan Marx is the “Defender” of whom the title speaks. Reluctant at first, Marx defended his faith on two fronts, one across the sea in Europe and the second in the United States. The battle in the states was of a different type. Marx learned what it was like to defend his and the faith of his fellow Jews against prejudice and abuse by those who waged the war. Marx is not an orthodox Jew. He does not follow the doctrine as most of those in his religion would and did not realize until asked by Grossbart that he was still religious. Though Grossbart showed him he was not like others, Grossbart was not the central antagonism, The war was.