Roots of a father

At 91 years old, most people would be resting. Taking it easy. Enjoying the last part of their life.

But not this man.

Every day, he walks the streets selling small trees for just one dollar each. He’s not doing it for money or attention. He’s doing it for someone he loves deeply—his disabled son.

His son can’t work or take care of himself, so this father does what he must. Even at his age, he wakes up, picks up the trees, and starts walking. He walks for hours just to make a few dollars—enough to buy food, medicine, and the basics his son needs to survive.

People pass him on the street. Some don’t notice him. Others give a little. But very few know the real reason why he keeps going.

He does it out of love. Pure, quiet love.

This is what it means to be a father. To keep giving, even when you’re tired. Even when it’s hard. Even when the world isn’t watching.

He may not have much. But what he does have is something powerful:
A heart full of love.
Feet that refuse to stop walking.
And roots that go deep—deeper than struggle, deeper than age.

He is the reason we believe that real love never gives up.

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