Other than "heroes of the faith" as listed in the eleventh chapter of the Letter to the Hebrews, I can name my personal heroes on the fingers of one hand. Jesus does not count, as he falls into a totally separate category as the fully human, fully divine Second Person of the Holy Trinity.
My number one hero counted on the fingers of my hand is my dad, and running a close second is Abraham Lincoln, who was born on this date in 1809. In his own words:
I was born Feb. 12, 1809, in Hardin County, Kentucky. My parents were both born in Virginia, of undistinguished families--second families, perhaps I should say. My mother, who died in my tenth year, was of a family of the name of Hanks.... My father ... removed from Kentucky to ... Indiana, in my eighth year.... It was a wild region, with many bears and other wild animals still in the woods. There I grew up.... Of course when I came of age I did not know much. Still somehow, I could read, write, and cipher ... but that was all."
If you go to Hodgenville, Kentucky you can visit the birthplace of Abraham Lincoln and see a log cabin which is said to be a reasonable facsimile of the one in which he was born. You can see the deep spring at the cave where the Lincolns drew their water, walk around the grounds and visit the small but lovely museum. It is a National Park and Admission is free.
Here is my favorite apocryphal story about Abraham Lincoln: After a long winter it was a fine spring day in 1809 and two farmers saw each other at the general store in Hodgenville. They hailed each other and asked what was new. In the course of the conversation one said, "Well, back in February Tom Lincoln's wife Nancy had a baby boy and they named him Abe. Nothing much ever happens in Hodgenville."
The Rev. Linda McCloud
The Episcopal Church of Our Savior at Honey Creek