Bobby McQuaid

Bread. Check. Crackers. Check. Common sense. Probably not. I was eleven years old, and the ducks arrived in packs as I hurled various snacks into the water. A small war taking place as each snack hit the water. I inched closer and closer to the shoreline, hoping to feed the animals right out of my hand. I reached out, Teddy Graham nestled between my fingers, and before I could think about how stupid I was being, SNAP! A duck had clamped it’s beak around my short pudgy extremities.

Out of nowhere, my gray-haired hero came jogging down the bank. With one kick, my grandpa sent the creature wishing it had never come near me. He smiled, shook his head, and grabbed my throbbing hand. I was embarrassed, but he did not care, bad knees and all, he did everything he could to help me.

All my life, my grandpa has been by my side in everything I do. Every baseball game, spelling bee, and surgery I have been through, he has been my rock, keeping me calm and level headed. He walks my dogs, gives me gas money, and gets me food, but asks for nothing in return but a thank you and a hug. Over the years, my grandpa has had a profound influence on my life because he has taught me to never back down and to never be too busy to help someone. He has instructed me to keep my priorities straight, and to never get too excited or too upset. My grandfather truly is my role model, and one day I hope to be a fraction as strong, selfless, and determined as he is.