Sometimes, I doubt whether there is any love between my parents. Every day they are busy trying to make money. They don't act romantically the way couples do in books and on TV. They never say: "I love you." It's not their style.
One day, my mother was sewing (缝) a quilt (被子). I sat down beside her.
"Mom, I have a question to ask you," I said after a while.
"What?" she asked while still working.
"Is there love between you and Dad?" I asked her.
She didn't answer right away.
I thought I had hurt her.
"Susan, look at this thread (线)," she said finally. "Sometimes it appears, but most of it disappears in the quilt. It makes the quilt strong. If life was a quilt, then love should be a thread. It can hardly be seen anywhere, but it's still important."
The next spring, my father suddenly got very sick. My mother had to stay with him in the hospital for a month.
After they got back, she helped my father walk slowly down the road every day. My father had never been so fragile (脆弱的).
"Dad, how are you feeling now?" I asked him one day.
"Susan, don't worry about me," he said. "I just like walking with your mom."
Once, I thought love meant flowers and gifts. Now, I know that love is the thread that holds a family together.
