My father died when I was five. My brother, who is eight years {#blank#}1{#/blank#} (old) than me, began to take my father's place to look {#blank#}2{#/blank#} me.

    Because of my father's {#blank#}3{#/blank#} (die), my mother had to get a full-time job. My brother took on more responsibilities than what was expected for {#blank#}4{#/blank#} (he). He got up early and woke me up for school every morning.

    While I {#blank#}5{#/blank#} (eat) breakfast, he would lay out my clothes {#blank#}6{#/blank#} make my bed. As we waited for the school bus, he would play games my father used to play with me. He did his best {#blank#}7{#/blank#} (make) me happy, and he succeeded every time.

    It was a Saturday in June some years later. MY mother and I were at the store. The sellers were selling Father's Day cards. I stared at the cards. My mum said. "Honey, I know this is {#blank#}8{#/blank#} hard time for you." I said, "No, Mum. That's not it. {#blank#}9{#/blank#} don't they sell Brother's Day cards?" She smiled and said, "You're right. Your brother has {#blank#}10{#/blank#} (certain) been a father to you. Go ahead and pick out a card for your brother."

    So I did, and on Father's Day, my mother and I made my brother sit down and gave him the card. As he read it, I saw tears in his eyes.