My parents expect me to grow into a kind person, and they have tried to do so since I was a little kid. We had a pet at that time, a lovely dog with big round eyes and fluffy ears. My parents told me that he was family and I needed to take care of him. At first I thought that meant feeding him regularly and playing with him, especially when I felt bored, but then I realized that this was far from enough since dog could get upset when he felt ignored or unwanted, so I promised myself to spend some time with him every day no matter rain or shine. Gradually, I learned to care about others’ feelings. For my parents, kindness means having empathy, to feel concern for others while for me, well, I’m not sure if I’m a kind person or not, yet I believe that being nice toward others makes me happy, and we should be there for our loved ones when they need us.