A Memory of My Dad

Originally posted to fortysomething...

When I was in ninth grade, I cashed in a $50 savings bond to do Christmas shopping and was dismayed to receive just over $25 for it. (I'd only had it a year and didn't understand how savings bonds worked.) When I told my dad and told him the name of the banker who had "cheated" me out of my $50, he took the money and said he'd take care of it. The next day he handed me $50. I imagined him confronting the banker for "cheating" his daughter. He was my hero.

Years later, when I understood how savings bonds worked, I realized he had simply given me $50 of his own money to make up for sending me to the bank unaware the savings bond was only worth just over $25. Again, he was my hero.

Years after that, someone who knew about the incident (but didn't know I'd long figured out what Dad had done) scoffed, "You thought your father was a hero, but he just gave you his own money to make up for it. He didn't do anything big." Their statement made me feel sorry for them. That person must have been horribly unhappy and bitter in their own heart to try to destroy a daughter's admiration for her own father.