Father still love me, love in the way of father! Father and son separated at the bus station, filled with tears. Car running, father figure fade away. I took pictures of the whole family. Tears reappeared. I promise to keep these memories. I have hands; i have a brain; I have valuable knowledge that I have accumulated from the school, family and society. I will stand on my own feet. Certain! Who was born and grew up, has a home, family, childhood, there are things to remember, there are memories can not fade. To me, the tears of my father as a bag to step into life. I feel fortunate to be born in a land of traditional folk arts in a family full of love, with a model father bearing the family, raising adult children growing up. My father - a simple farmer, honest. My mother was more timid than you, the months in the hands of chronic illness. How much sweat I took, tears tired of father's sacrifice. To now the young man coated on the hair on his head was silver, face printed with the footprints. I still know that men are not easy to shed. So when they cried, something deep touched their hearts. Watching those tears fall, we think they are weak but all those tears deserve to be cherished. They make us feel more warm and heartfelt. And it was my dad, the man who helped me understand and appreciate the silent tears. He never compliments me or criticizes me as he always loves me. I used to think that my father did not hurt me, so I saw his father's silent tears on the day I was enrolled. I remember the occasion rainy, the father rushed to run back and forth to take care of paperwork, procedures for me. I am tired but I know my father is happy, worried about his daughter for the first time away from home. Now I'm going to the car to go back to my hometown to tears, this time I cried, crying grateful for my father. And two years later, my sister away from home to the countryside, my father did not hide tears. At that time, on the bus, ignoring everyone's eyes, he leaned his head against the door and sobbed. The day I returned home, the man pick me up nobody else, still the father. Perhaps years later, I would not forget that day - the day I heard Daddy had an accident. Father did not hurt, but did not tell anyone, go to the hospital by himself. After that, I heard the doctor tell the face of his father, the hospital is almost fainted, fortunately there are nurses to help in time. During that time, I was able to go back to my hometown, my father was discharged partly because he wanted to return to his daughter, and he did not like the smell of the hospital. My holiday is just five days, and then it is time to say goodbye here to continue the journey of carrying my hopes and pride. That day, even though I told him to call a taxi to dock, my dad kept asking me to go. I know my father is very hurt but still trying not to feel secure for her daughter to go alone. I know how much I persuade him, but with his assertiveness, I have to listen to him. Father still love me, love in the way of father! Father and son separated at the bus station, filled with tears. Car running, father figure fade away. I took pictures of the whole family. Tears reappeared. I promise to keep these memories. I have hands; i have a brain; I have valuable knowledge that I have accumulated from the school, family and society. I will stand on my own feet. Certain! Each person entering the world will have different motivations to try, to strive for, to study, to work and to give. To me, the tears of my father that day was the peace of the soul, full of noble divine, to live better, try more, to the tears of his father, if there is fall will be the tears of happiness!
