Sometimes you find heroes in the most unlikely places. I’m referring to those ordinary dads who are quietly living faithful lives—in my eyes, they’e the real heroes.
A while back, we traveled to our nation’s capital. David and I met with influential men and women who are faithfully serving our country. We toured the capitol building, awed by the courageous faith of our Founding Fathers. Their names are written in history—their impact will last for generations.
But for me, the real hero showed up—of all places—in a taxi cab. Our driver was a gentle, friendly man with an east African accent. He talked about his 33 years driving a cab.
His three kids had all graduated from fine colleges, he boasted, with that dad-kind-of-pride. All had prestigious jobs working in DC.
“You must have done some pretty good parenting,” I commented. “What’s your secret?” “My secret,” he laughed, “is America.” “In America, if you’re willing to work hard, you can reach your dream.”
“There are some who might disagree,” I replied. “Hmmm,” he paused. “They have never lived in another country.” He had fled the severe persecution of Christians in Eritrea. I noticed the prominent cross on his dashboard. “People here don’t know what it’s like to not have freedom,” he said quietly.
When he was a much younger man, he had been educated as an accountant back in Eritea. But since coming to America, he had worked as a cab driver. Day after day. Month after month. Year after year. He was well past his prime.
“We have very smart kids,” He smiled. “They call every weekend and want to come see us.” They say, “Mom, what are you cooking?” “Yes, I am a blessed man, indeed.”
I knew we’d been with a true hero that day. And a man of honor.