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　　My grandfather grew up in war-torn Europe．When German soldiers occupied his hometown, the thriving city of Tarow, Poland, he refused to obey them and eventually joined the Soviet army to fight for his country’s freedom．“Stand straight, stand tall,” he told himself．

　　After the war, in 1947, he boarded a boat for Manhattan．He was hungry and suffering from seasickness．All alone in a new country, he was frightened about his future．Still, he marched head-on into the hustle and bustle of the streets of New York．Soon he met other European immigrants, each of them trying to find his or her own way．If they could do it, why couldn’t he?“Stand straight, stand tall,” he would remind himself．

　　Thanks to the help of a loyal and trusting friend, my grandfather gained a jewelry booth on Canal Street, New York City．He once told me how nervous he was on that first day of work．He was not only trying to learn this tough new business, but also a new language．

　　To his surprise, the men in neighboring booths－who could have taken advantage of him－offered their help and advice．Within months, my grandfather was commanding his spot behind the counter, selling diamonds and cultured pearls as if he’d been doing it his whole life．

　　Stand straight and stand tall．

　　In later years, my grandfather would take both my mother and her sister down the aisle at their weddings．As he stood with each of them, he thought about their new beginnings, and of the adventures and journeys they would experience together．He also thought about the children who would one day carry on his family name．

　　I am so proud to be one of those children．Listening to my grandfather’s remarkable experiences has changed the way I view my own life．

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