I'm giving this one to Alexandra Kerry...

It's great to be here tonight. It hasn't been easy to sift through years of memories about my father and find those few that might best tell you who John Kerry really is. Let me just begin with one July day when Vanessa and I were kids. It's a silly story, but it's true, and it's one of my favorite memories of my father.

We were standing on a dock waiting for a boat to take us on a summer trip. Vanessa, the scientist, had packed all her animals including her favorite hamster. Our over-zealous golden retriever got tangled in his leash and knocked the hamster cage off the dock. We watched as Licorice, the unlucky hamster bubbled down to a watery doom. That might have been the end of the story. But my dad jumped in, grabbed an oar, fished the cage from the water, hunched over the soggy hamster and began to administer CPR. There were some reports of mouth-to-mouth, but, I admit that's probably a trick of memory. He was never quite right after that, but Licorice lived. Like I said, it may sound silly. We still laugh about it today. But, to us it was serious and that's what mattered to my father.

Years later, when I was driving back to college with him, brooding as only a nineteen-year-old can, my father told me to look outside. He said, "Ali, this is a beautiful day. Feel the sun. Look at the country you live in." The passion of his words makes me remember them, still, ten years later. He said: "I know men your exact age, who thought they had the same future you have. Whose families were never born, who never again walked on American soil. They don't feel this sun. Ali," he said. "If there's something you don't like, something that needs to be changed, change it. But never, ever give up. Remember that you are alive. And that you are an American. Those two things make you the luckiest girl in the world."

Even now, I look back at that and think about what my dad's been through in his life. Because he's quiet about those things, my sister and I had to sneak upstairs, when we were kids, to read his letters from Vietnam. Who knew a 23 year-old could have seen so much, so young?

To every little girl her father is a hero. It's taken some getting used to, that my father actually is one. And not just in the obvious ways. Because he likes to listen as much as he likes to talk; because he's studious in the way someone is when everything in the whole world interests them; because he leads by example; because he trusts people with the truth and doesn't pander or play to our baser instincts.

And let me tell you this, when he loves you-as he loves me and my sister and his family, as he loves the men who fought beside him-there is no sacrifice too great. When he cares for you, as he cares for this country, there are no surer hands, and no wiser heart.

And so when he teaches you, by the life he has led, as he has taught me and my sister all of our lives, there is no better lesson: That the future of this country is not only his life's work. It's mine and yours. It is all of our life's work, all of us.

And if we want our children to breathe clean air and drink clean water, if we want them to control their own bodies, if we want them to protect the liberties and opportunities that are our birthrights, we must be involved in the struggle. Because on that day, my father was right, we are the luckiest people in the world. We walk on this soil. We feel this sun. And we are Americans. And now, we'd like to present, our dad, John Kerry!