英语手抄报：默默的父爱(2)

　　Dad stepped in front of me and asked, "Well!""Well what!"I asked, knowing exactly what. "Well!" he repeated, crossing his arms and looking everywhere but at me. I hugged him extra hard. Now was the right time to say what I'd always wanted to. "I'm fifty years old, Dad, and you've never told me you love me." My father stepped away from me. He picked up the empty juice glass, washed it and put it away. "You've told other people you love me." I said, "but I've never heard it from you." Dad looked uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. I moved closer to him. "Dad, I want you to tell me you love me." Dad took a step back, his lips pressed together. He seemed about to speak, then shook his head. "Tell me" I shouted. "All right I love you" Dad finally blurted, his hands fluttering like wounded birds. And in that instant something occurred that I had never seen happen in my life. His eyes glistened, then overflowed.

　　I stood before him, stunned and silent. Finally, after all these years, my heart joined my head in understanding. My father loved me so much that just saying so made him weep, which was something he never, ever wanted to do, least of all in front of family. Mom had been right. Every day of my life Dad had told me how much he loved me by what he did and what he gave. "I know, Dad, "I said. "I know." And now at last I did.