The stories of HeroicStories.
by Terry Ann Fielding
Brandon, Mississippi, USA
When I was about 12, my father decided that I needed something constructive to occupy my day; something that wasn’t devoted just to me. At that age I was kind of selfish and felt that the world meant being with girlfriends, dreaming about guys, eating and sleeping. He had other ideas: I was signed up to be a Junior Volunteer at Children’s Hospital in New Orleans.
by Eric Storm
California, USA
In 1998 our first child suffered through months of colic. Every night from 6 p.m. until 4 a.m. we took turns sitting up with our daughter as she cried and wailed. Though neither of us got any real sleep, I at least was able to escape to work. My wife stayed home.
by Amanda Brophy (age 12)
Byron, Minnesota, USA
My Dad is an engineer. To me, that means he loves to solve problems. It also means that he is always encouraging me and my two sisters to think. It’s like he looks at every situation in life either as a puzzle to be solved, or one that has already been solved.
by Linda Gavitt
Connecticut, USA
In January 1999 planning for my daughter’s wedding began with a phone call telling me she and John would marry in March — leaving little time to plan! Fortunately Lauren wanted a small wedding with 20-30 close friends and relatives. She was in Orlando, Florida, John was stationed in Kentucky, and I was in Connecticut. Her finance’s family generously offered their help to plan everything, and their Tampa area home for the reception.
by Charles Horner
Texas, USA
In the mid 1980s, I was enrolled in a travel agency school for entrepreneurs who wanted to operate their own travel agency. We got valuable information on the geography of the world. And we were trained on educating our clients to deal with idiosyncrasies and cultural habits of other cultures around the world. Some of the information gleaned from those classes has stuck with me to this day, especially on how to treat other people… no matter what they look like.
By Martha
New Hampshire, USA
Shannon used to work second shift at my company, but often came in much before his start time of 3:30 p.m. In February 2003, at 11:30 a.m. on a Tuesday, he stopped at a donut shop near his home to get a cup of coffee. This was something he regularly did because he needed the caffeine to get through the night. As he got out of his car, he nodded at a fellow customer who was standing outside his car, eating a bagel.
by The Patient
USA
Over 25 years ago a friend recommended a doctor to me. The doctor had a private practice and his office was nearby. Best of all, he favored “preventive and natural medicine”, important to me as I seem to be allergic to half the substances known to mankind. Foods, chemicals, dyes, you name it, I’m allergic.
by Tom Murrell
Ohio, USA
Recently I went to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C., known as The Wall. Some fellow Vietnam veterans and I had just finished a healing weekend called the Bamboo Bridge. Those of us who could take the extra time stayed another day. We went to the memorial to pay our respects to fallen comrades, to complete our work at this sacred place.
by Lisa Vetitoe
Tennessee, USA
In 1998 I rented a storage unit in a small community west of Nashville to help me organize my home. Inside I put my personal artwork: etchings, silk-screen prints, and the original plates they were made from. Also inside were photos, books and miscellaneous stuff.
by Crystal M. Anderson
Iowa, USA
It was 1952 and I was a sophomore in high school. An algebra class was dealing me fits and it wasn’t sinking into my dull brain. The language of algebraic terms threw me for a loop. My teacher was Miss Rupp and my fear of her was second to none other I had faced before.