Father's Invitation

My father was always the kind of person I feared, silent, irritable, dictatorial, and seldom spoke to me directly unless it was an important matter. In my daily life, it was often my mother who gave me the "orders". If I did as I was told, but if there was a hint of disobedience, he would be furious and "angry" until I gave in.

Did my father love me? I don't know.

The conflict with my father intensified after I fell in love.

It was the first time I brought my boyfriend home. From the beginning to the end, my father didn't say a word. When my boyfriend had his dinner and said goodbye, my father said coldly to him, "Don't you ever come back."

At that time, I could tolerate everything, but I couldn't tolerate anyone forcing and belittling my love. So, I justified and argued with my father. But then I realized that my father had no preconceptions about my boyfriend, he just wanted to habitually pose as a future father-in-law and authority. You can say that, to a large extent, it was my violent reaction that greatly intensified the conflict and damaged my father's dignity.

"You get out! Don't ever come back!" Father shouted.

It was the age of running around the world like crazy, I was not afraid to roll. I simply took care of their things, they are very "heroic" slammed the door and went to live in the unit of the single dormitory.

This life is most of the year.

In the late winter, my boyfriend proposed to me. I called and discussed it with my mother. Mother came rushing: "Your father does not nod, how to do?"

"It doesn't matter if he nods or not." I was so righteous, "I'm the one getting married."

"But you are also his heart!"

"I didn't hear him say that."

"Why are you acting like a child!" Mother cried.

"Then I'll go home." I was a little reluctant, "Will he be willing?"

"I'll persuade him again." My mother rushed back in a panic. Three days later, when my mother came back to see me, she looked even more depressed: "He still won't let go."

"But the wedding day is coming soon, and the invitations are ready."

My mother just kept on crying. The two of them, whose family she could not be.

"How about this, I'll send an invitation to Dad. Anyway, my gift arrived, he is free." Finally, I decided so.

A big red invitation, I signed my name and my boyfriend's in style. I did my best, I consoled myself.

The wedding date was approaching, but my father still hadn't given me the word to come home. The first thing I did was to get the wedding supplies delivered to my dorm room one by one. Occasionally sitting down, will only worry: about how the father will sulk, how relatives will laugh, and how embarrassing the scene will be ......

The day before the wedding, there was a sudden heavy snowfall. The next morning, as soon as I opened the door, I was surprised to find that the snow was swept clean from the entrance of our row of dormitories. The crisp pavement stretched to the outside of the unit's front door.

The teacher in the communication room must have done it. I ran over to thank him.

"Not me. It was an old man who swept to the entrance of our unit early in the morning. Asked his name, he refused to say."

I ran to the front door and did not see the snow plowing people. I only saw that there was a clear path that led to the direction that I knew best - the direction of home.

From the flat to my house, it was nearly a kilometer away.

Along this road, I walked to the door. When my mother saw me, she froze: "Why are you back?"

"Dad placed an invitation for me." I laughed.

"Didn't you give your father an invitation? How come your father gave you an invitation?" Mother was even more surprised, "Your father still gives invitations?"

My father was standing in the courtyard, he did not turn around, nor did he answer, he just silently, silently dusted the snow on the holly tree.

For the first time, I realized that his stubbornness turned out to be so gentle.