Gratitude Stories Collection - Gratitude is Great Wisdom in Life

Author: Teng Gang
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-08-01
Features: A Text Message to Dad and the Barrier Between Me and Dad
The barrier between me and Dad has long existed. In childhood, I was intimidated by his authority; after school, I didn’t have time for him; and when I started working, I was in the provincial capital while Dad stayed in the hometown. Every time I returned home, it was in a hurry, and our interactions were scarce. Whenever I saw his silver-white hair and slightly hunched back, a deep sense of gratitude filled my heart. I believed the barrier between me and Dad could only keep my love for him hidden in my heart, too ashamed to express it.
Everything changed a few years ago on Father’s Day when, drunk, I sent Dad a text message. For those months, I had been wandering the streets and alleys of the provincial capital in search of a job. Whenever I encountered on-site recruitment, I submitted my resume on the spot; when I saw a job posting online with "Non-appointment visits prohibited," I mailed my application materials. When I received a call for a written exam, I picked up my only pencil to take it; when I got an interview invitation, I wore my new suit, which I rarely wore, to attend. Despite my efforts, personal nearly drained all my savings, my only pencil had become a stub, and my new suit had turned into an old one, yet I still hadn’t found a place to settle down. The bitterness of relentless struggles and the sorrow of "a hero with no place to showcase his talents" turned into the song "Men can cry, it’s not a crime" piercing my ears. A bottle of cheap liquor on Father’s Day numbed my nerves, and I couldn’t control my longing for home. I ended up sending Dad a text message. I didn’t dare call home, afraid of blurting out the truth about my job search failure—it would only add to my parents’ sorrow, and they couldn’t help me anyway. Besides, I wasn’t accustomed to face-to-face or even phone conversations with Dad. Every time I returned home, his first words were, "Dad, where did Mom go?" Every time I called home, his first greeting was, "Dad, let Mom take the call!" I didn’t know that every time Dad saw me, his first words were about Mom, and every time I called, his first greeting was related to her. How must he have felt! All I knew was that my current situation had to be relayed to Dad through Mom, and my heart was filled with guilt.
Over the past few months, life’s hardships and the pressure of survival had gradually made me realize how difficult it is for a man to live in this world. A so-called "common language" emerged between me and Dad, and the barrier between us seemed to fade, though it lingered faintly. Even so, the text message I sent to Dad was incredibly short: "Dad, I miss you, Mom, and home."
A short while later, I received a reply from Dad, and his reply was even shorter than my message, just four words: "My son."
Reading the message, tears blurred my vision. Dad had condensed his profound, fatherly love into those four words!
Next, I received a call from Dad. On the phone, he said, "Son, come home. Rest for a while." Dad’s words, voice, tone, and intonation were just like the words Paul’s mother said to Paul in How the Steel Was Tempered: "I’m getting old, no matter how many children I raise, they’ll all leave when they grow up. I’ll only wait until you get sick or injured."