Things Dad Didn't Tell You

Dad never talked at length and didn't like to talk about himself. But I knew that deep inside his heart was a treasure trove of memories.

My father grew up in a poor countryside, where every grain of rice was associated with sweat and tears. I heard my grandmother tell me that when he was young, he had to walk more than 5 kilometers to get to school. His worn-out rubber sandals were his companions throughout those years. My father rarely mentioned those difficult days, but sometimes I saw a sparkle of pride in his eyes. I understood that it was those years that made him the strong and steadfast father he is today.

I remember one time, on a rainy night, the electricity went out, the whole family sat around the oil lamp. My father said: When I was young, I dreamed of becoming a civil engineer. However, a difficult life forced me to put my dream aside and choose another path to make a living. My father's voice was low and sad, then he ended the story with a slight smile: "I did not become a civil engineer, but I built a happy family. That is the greatest work of my life." That sentence made me speechless. I suddenly realized that there are dreams that do not need to come true in the way we expect. Maybe my father did not become an engineer, but he built solid steps for us to continue. He sacrificed small things of himself, in return for his children the opportunities he once longed for.

My father is not good at expressing his feelings through words. He doesn't often say "I love you" or "I'm proud of you". However, I still feel that love through his silent actions. Those are the mornings when he wakes up early to fix my bicycle for me to go to class; the times when he waits for me in the sun at the school gate when I take an exam; the raincoat he puts in my hand before leaving the house... Those things, perhaps my father never thought he was expressing his love, but to me, those are the deepest words of love.

I used to think my father was a tough man, until one day, by chance, I saw him quietly looking at the family photo on his desk, his eyes filled with tears. I never asked him why he was so emotional at that time, but I knew that behind his quiet appearance was a heart always full of love and concern for his family. There were things he had not told and perhaps would never tell. But I understood that what he did for his family, for my siblings, were all wordless but profound and meaningful stories. To me, my father was the most precious book, even though many pages had never been opened and told out loud by him.

In life, there are fathers like that, loving their children in the most silent way, sacrificing without needing to boast. They do not need flowery words, do not need anyone to acknowledge them. They just need to see their children grow up and live happily. For them, that is the most precious gift. And I, in the midst of the hustle and bustle of life, suddenly understand that I must appreciate what my father has done and is doing for me. Sometimes, instead of waiting for my father to tell me, maybe I should take the initiative to ask him more. Perhaps the things he has not told me are the things I have never listened to. The things he has not told me, not because he does not want to tell them, but because he chooses to love through actions instead of words. And I, a child, will appreciate those unspoken things, just as my father has silently loved me throughout his life.