There is a kind of love that is silent; there is a kind of love that is serious. It is that wide and boundless father's love.
Father's love, it is like white wine, spicy and passionate, easy to make people drunk in it; it is like coffee in general, bitter and mellow, easy to make people's heart; it is also like tea, bland and friendly, can make people in the unknowingly addicted.
It was a day in the summer vacation, I just came out from my classmate's house, I did not expect it to pouring rain, I was embarrassed to go back to my classmate's house, I had to be hard on it. I dodged left and right, and it took me a lot of effort, but I was still drenched by the damn rain. Along the way, I kept cursing the heavens and this bullying rain. Suddenly, in the distance, I saw a familiar figure, it was dad! "Dad!" I shouted hurriedly. As if he had heard my voice as well, dad hurriedly walked towards me. "Why are you here? I've been looking for you for a long time, and even went to your classmate's house, I just couldn't find you, the rain is so heavy, aren't you afraid of catching a cold? Come home quickly!" In my dad's eyes, I was a child who would never grow up. Along the way, we are silent, I inadvertently looked at my father, the rain has wet half of his body, his face has long been indistinguishable which is sweat, which is rain. It turned out that my father in order for me not to be wet by the rain, the already small umbrella toward my side to move over a large part, as a result, he himself but wet a large area. I didn't realize that I was already in tears, and my tears fell silently.
Think about the father of the past, will not give me a hug like mother, will not be like mother as concerned about this and that, I think, that's only because the father's love is silent, is deep, just from the past I did not have the heart to experience it. At this time, my tears once again flowed down, sliding across my cheeks. Perhaps it was my father who saw that I was wrong and said to me, "What's wrong with you?" It was then that I reacted and hurriedly parted, "It's the rain, the rain fell into my eyes." Dad coughed, the sound was like an invisible needle, piercing my heart, I instinctively pushed the umbrella toward Dad and said, "There are umbrellas together ****!" Dad smiled in relief, and so did I.
All along, the father has been a silent, serious image in the hearts of our sons and daughters. He hid his tenderness and vulnerability of these lingering feelings y, and his love for us was always unconditional, piling up little by little. Our father's care and love is like a big mountain, with a majestic head, but with true love flowing in his heart, which is enough for us to lean on in peace.
Father is like a book, young sons and daughters often do not read the father, until they really grow up, know what is called when, and then re-open this big book, in order to read the father's sincere heart.
Father's love is a huge book that shakes the heart, and if you read it, you will read the whole life.
Zhu Ziqing felt happy because of his father's back, Zou Taofen was moved by his mother's crying ......
Family love is the wealth of our life. And I, too, have the same wealth that will keep me from being poor all my life - my father's love!
Example two
My father, a silent man, since childhood, there is very little verbal communication between us. When I was a child, the closest interaction I had with my father was to take his large hands and compare them to my small hands. Putting my small hands into his huge hands, imagining when my hands could grow so big. The impression was that my father's hands were broad and soft. Gradually I grew up, the course is more and more intense, and my father's exchanges also seem more plausible. Often when I go out to school, my father has already gone to work, and I came home from school, then head into the pile of books, for a long time, I did not notice what my father was doing. My mother took care of me in every way, but even when I was occasionally sick, my father always said nothing, only silently watching from the sidelines. This makes me can't help but complain, why my father does not care about me at all? Until that winter ...... day the weather was not good, outside a small snow, I slept over because the first night to study late into the night. Getting up then in a panic toward the desk, but found that the book bag has been packed neatly. Your dad packed it for you, mom said. It was only then that I realized that my father, who should have left for work long ago, was sitting on the sofa, fully dressed and quiet. My mother told me, "Your father doesn't want you to go by yourself, the road is slippery in snowy days, and he is afraid that you will freeze and catch a cold, so he has to drive you there." I let out an "oh" and followed my father downstairs. The car drove to an intersection, and traffic jam! Inadvertently, I touched my father's hand holding the handbrake. I couldn't help but freeze. The hand was stiff and cracked, like a dead tree branch. Is this my father's hand? I was puzzled and looked down, the hand was dry, black and yellow, shriveled, and had no luster at all. Why? My father's hands are generous and soft, how did they become like this? All these years, I was just focusing on my studies, never paying attention to my father's changes, and even complaining about my father's lack of concern for me. Just at this moment, I suddenly realized that, originally, my father for our family, in order to let me live a more solid life, has been quietly dedication, with actions to care for me. My heart is sour and my eyes are moist. Father's hand, is in his weathered years, a little bit become so ugly, but in my heart, this is the world's broadest and warmest palm! Outside the car window is still freezing cold, flying snowflakes, but my heart is warm. Isn't this the best proof of my father's love for me? This kind of love is silent, quiet, but come so surging, will I tightly surrounded. Father with the aging of life into that endless mountains, bring me the love of eternity. Father, your love is the wealth of my life!
Fan essay for reference only Hope it helps!