Heros - Mindy Quash

If there’s one person I look up to, it’s definitely my grandfather. He passed away when I was in the 7th grade, about 5 years ago. I wish we had lived closer so I could’ve had a closer relationship with him but regardless of the distance, I loved him immensely. He lived in Los Angeles, with my uncle. Before he died my mom would tell me so many stories about his life, I was fascinated at all of the things this man went through.

He grew up in Vietnam, and of course, life was difficult. He and my grandma had 9 children, and to support them he made gravestones. Now, that job was no joke. It was hard labor in the hot sun for very little pay, so food and clothes were scarce. But indubitably they were a happy family regardless of their low supply of luxuries. He was the only one working until my two uncles turned about fifteen, and then they all started working and life got a little better for everyone. It wasn’t until they arrived in America for my mom and my six other aunts started working as tailors.

It’s not just the fact that my grandpa is the hardest worker I know, I just love the fact that despite all the challenges he faced as a young teenager, AND as a grown man supporting a huge family, he was never stressed out. He was such a happy person, and he tried to keep a smile on everyone’s face. Whenever I visited him in Los Angeles he’d recite different jokes, never repeating a particular joke twice. He loved to make people laugh, and he loved to laugh himself. He never made anyone feel bad for anything, above all he was very understanding of others.

After our whole family was settled in America, my grandpa developed a green thumb. He loved to garden! If there’s one hobby I remembered of him it was that he loved to grow everything he could. I remember running around in his backyard seeing all the flowers, lettuce, tomatoes, he also had a plum, apple, and pear tree. As a kid, my cousins and I loved to pick all the ripe fruit and eat them, but of course he would never get angry! He’d always tell us that he grew them especially for us to enjoy. He spent a generous amount of time to his beloved plants, watering them at the perfect time of day and harvesting them and giving all of it away to his friends and family.

The only things I have to remember him by are my memories, my mother’s stories, and a necklace he gave me on his death bed. It’s a carved wooden bird with golden wings, made by his friend in Vietnam. I never take it off! I means so much to me.