In times of troubles or controversy, reaching out for help is my first instinct. I search for someone who has gone through the same. I look for him. By giving me advice, he molds and shapes me. But he’s not an artist.
When I’m lost and looking for answers he is there. He gives me his opinion—I gravitate towards it. He offers me his experience, so I learn from it. In times of struggle I go to him for guidance. But he’s not a counselor.
Whether it’s struggling with sports, a tough decision, or homework I can always count on him. When situations arise, where my well-being is at stake, he is there to help. When danger presents itself, he’s there for me. He protects me and looks after me. But he’s not a shield.
His name is Hans. In my life he is my counselor, my artist, and my shield. But above all others, he is my brother.