Short stories growing up
Growing up, I was told a variety of stories. Stories are a good way to influence a child to behave in a certain way. For example, if you tell your child that Santa only gives gifts to nice kids, your child will be a good kid. My sister even told me stories to make me eat vegetables. She told me one of her friends was rushed to the hospital and died because she refused to eat broccoli, so I forced myself to eat broccoli despite not liking it! Manipulative stories aside, I really enjoyed stories told about old families members and the adventures they would do. For example, my grandpa was a salesman and he travelled all across Mexico and the United States with his kids. Looking back to the stories being told, they did seem a bit exaggerated. However, most great stories are a bit exaggerated, it’s just human nature to stretch a story to make it better/make someone look better. The stories about my family are stories that I still think of because in a way, they inspire me. My grandpa built a house while only having one hand in the span of many years, and that kind of embodies the work ethic that I aspire to have. I know it’s possible to reach that level of discipline for the simple fact that it is in my blood.
