Lost Child of WWII

<p>My name is Leonida but people just call me Nida. I grew up in the Philippines during the great war</p><p>of my time. I had a loving father who adored me. He was my protector and teacher. He was my rock </p><p>my hero my father. He made me feel safe and he shaped me into the person I am today. Without</p><p>his love and teachings of what is right I strongly believe that I would not have what I have today. I</p><p>may be overstating him a bit. My last memory of him was when I was only four years old yet even at</p><p>that young of an age he captivated my imagination with his stories. I remember walking with him</p><p>when I was even younger. I guess my earliest memories were from when I was as young as two</p><p>years old. He was my inspiration and my hope and he was taken from me when I was just four</p><p>years old. I watched with tears in my eyes as he was killed at the hands of the Japanese for</p><p>safeguarding some Americans by hiding them in a cave. I will never forget his last words to me. Be</p><p>strong Nida I love you.</p>