It feels like ages since i wrote my last speech project. I sort of like this one. i had mentor check it already and i already applied his suggestions except on the nick carter part.

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BSP4- How to say it

Title: The pristine glass I broke

Time: 5~7 minutes

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A quote by Mitch Albom said, “All parents damage their children. It cannot be helped. Youth, like pristine glass, absorbs the prints of its handlers. Some parents smudge, others crack, a few shatter childhoods completely into jagged little pieces, beyond repair.”

Well, my story was a little different.

I met the first man in my life on the night I was born. With all gentleness in the world, he held me in his arms.

“From this day forward, I will protect you,” he said.

He was my shield. He was Dad.

Then, I grew up a bit. This same man filled my life with colors, stories, and songs. With one stroke from his hands, he drew wonders. With his words, he transported me into different places. Through him, I met kings, warriors and, dragons; Bugs Bunny, Donald Duck, and Mickey Mouse.

He was my Disney Land. He was Dad.

Shortly, I grew up some more. Dad then added riddles, numbers, and scientific facts in my world of words and colors. He combined rationality to my creativity for me to reach my full potential. When he introduced me to arts, he thought me freedom. When he trained me to think, he thought me how to be in control of that freedom. Dad imparted with me wisdom like that of the kings.

He was my Solomon. He was Dad.

The little girl that I was adored dad to bits. For me he was the smartest, the coolest, the most amazing, and all the superlatives the English language can provide.  I would rave for him with wild enthusiasm as I would with my favorite  rock band. I was his number one fan.

He was my Rockstar. He was Dad.

Soon, years added up to my age. I expanded my world, met people. Suddenly, the superlatives I know were no longer dedicated to just one person. Suddenly, dad’s jokes weren’t so funny anymore. His drawings that I used to imitate didn’t look so nice anymore. Suddenly, Dad didn’t seem to be so wise anymore.

Until I started to question:

“That’s not the right way to spell that, Dad.”

“I think your English is wrong, Dad.”

“What? You don’t know how to solve Calculus, Dad?”

The man fell short of my expectations. I was already an adult then, but the child in me felt betrayed. He was supposed to be the best. It turned out that he wasn’t.

Mitch Albom once said that parents damage their children. Maybe sometimes children damage their parents too.

When I started to lose my confidence with Dad, he started to lose his confidence with himself. When I no longer laughed at his jokes, he stopped giving them. When I stopped praising his drawings, he stopped holding pencils and crayons.

I used to see Dad as a hero. Ironically, I became my own hero’s downfall.

I continued expanding my world. I reached dreams after dreams. I was too engrossed in building a name for myself that forgot what really matters.

I remember it was around 3am when it happened. I was on my way to work. It was still dark when Dad walked me to the bus stop. I was an adult even then, but Dad just wouldn’t let his little girl walk alone in the dark. I remember his voice sounding odd. His face was looking lopsided.

“Dad, are you alright?”

He answered “yes” in a garbled voice.

“Are you sure? Let’s go back home; you’re not well.”

He insisted that I ride the bus and go to work. I would have resisted but didn’t. I was having a meeting with clients then. It would be a perfect venue to show off, so I left Dad.

I later learned that Dad had a stroke. He was sent to the hospital. I left the office and flew right off. I saw him at the emergency room. He had grown tentacles. Tubes were attached all over his body. He was in pain. Dad saw me and went crying. I went crying too. I remember wanting to say so much yet all I managed was “sorry”. For what, I wasn’t sure, maybe for leaving him, maybe for the years of neglect and disrespect. I still don’t know.

After three days in the ICU, and five days in the ward, we managed to get Dad back home. This might be the greatest storm our family had ever faced, but to me, this was one of the best days of my life. I spent time with Dad. We talked. We laughed. I remembered the many things that he was for me when I was young. I realized that the dad that he was, he still is. I felt like I was reconciled with my hero.

My relationship with dad had grown better since then.

Fellow Toastmasters and guests, I believe that parents too are pristine glasses that we hold in our hands. We have the same power to smudge, crack and shatter these glasses so let us be gentler with the ones we hold. We can only have them for a moment. Mend the rift. Bridge the gap. Reconcile with your heroes. When it comes to time, we never know how much we got. Let’s make it count.

Good Evening everyone.

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Mentor's note:

I like the progression and build up of the conflict. I also like how the climax led to the conclusion and the moral in the end. This means you were able to retain the skills from the previous three projects.  

12:06 PMにcinderellaareus によって書かれました。

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