First Year Writing Award: 2nd Place, Style - "Tough Love"
Tough Love
In my family, the only person I am afraid of is my father. Every time I make some small mistakes, I play tricks to make my mother and grandparents forgive me easily and let go of me, but my father never falls for my tricks. He always points out my mistakes directly and gives me a lesson with a straight face. He is a serious and careful man. I think the formation of his character may have something to do with his job as an accountant. His stubbornness and harshness used to be what I hated most when I was young, but after so many years I find I have really benefited a lot from them. What he taught me strengthens my courage to face difficulties and improves my ability to solve problems. His tough love made me grow up.
When I was in fifth grade, I spent a wild summer vacation. I was sent to my grandparents’ house in the countryside. I played with several friends who were familiar with the local place. We found a ditch to catch crayfish and frogs and ran in the grass to catch grasshoppers and dragonflies. I even followed them to steal some sweet potatoes，though later I was told that they were planted by my grandmother. We roasted these sweet potatoes over a small fire we made in the field. With the firelight reflecting on our childish faces, Sweetness on the tip of the tongue and the warm summer breeze made up a beautiful memory in my mind. Maybe it was because the summer vacation was so happy that I forgot my homework. On the last night of the summer vacation, my father asked me whether I had done all the homework. I lied and said I’d finished. To my surprise, he opened my exercise books. At that time, my heart was pounding wildly and almost jumped into my throat. The big blank in the exercise books made my father’s face darker and darker. When he stared at me with his eyes which seemed to be full of fire, I bowed my head in shame.
He said ruthlessly, “You are not allowed to go to bed until you have finished your homework and I’ll sit by to supervise you!”
I did not know whether my tears were from regret or sadness, but they flew from my eyes. I had to grab my pencil and keep writing. Every time I almost fell asleep, my father’s voice woke me up.
He said, “Keep writing. Don’t stop!”
The wind on that summer night became extremely cold. Mosquitoes sucked my blood unscrupulously. Coldness and exhaustion wore me down, but I did not dare show it. Not until three thirty was I finally able to go to bed. At that night, I swore to myself that I would never put off doing anything. I had enough of the consequences of delay and this lesson was so painful that I have remembered it so far.
There is one other thing that is still fresh in my mind, which lets me fully feel his pressure on me. When I was in the junior high school, one day our biology teacher got sick, so she changed the lesson. The lesson which had been scheduled for Tuesday was moved to Friday. Unfortunately, I forgot to bring my biology book, so I had to call my father, who happened to be resting at home, and hoped he would bring the biology book to me. Unlike the classmate next to me, who had put the receiver back after calling and returned to the classroom humming a song happily, I was forced to learn my father's lesson for more than ten minutes. In a word, he refused my request without hesitation, though it only took him 15 minutes to walk to my school. After hanging up the phone, I felt so broken-hearted that I could not understand why only my father was so strict with me while other fathers could easily forgive their daughter’s mistakes. It took me a long time to pull myself together. But after thinking for a long time, I learned that I was not supposed to count on others to help myself at any time. Nobody can help me all his life. Making thorough preparations and thinking twice is now necessary for me to do anything.
My father's severe requirements to me are not only reflected in my study, but also in my life. I like staying alone and quiet, but he always asks me to do more exercise. Though I know that exercise helps keep me healthy and in shape, I still hate sweating and hard breathing after exercise. Then my father took me to the gym to play badminton every day. What’s more, every time I’d like to enjoy my weekend and play my mobile phone on the sofa, he would advise me to read more books instead of wasting the time. Despite my reluctance, I often follow this advice. As a result, he forced me to come out of my comfort zone. It was hard to accept at first, but it really improved me and boosted my confidence.
With age, I am not so rebellious and childish any more. My father's sternness now seems to be the best test of me in the past. It makes me a strong-willed, conscientious and independent adult instead of a feckless, careless and fragile girl. Recall the past, and I find that during the three years of hard study in high school, my father insisted on picking me up and accompanying me silently every day, that when he heard I was not feeling well at school, he directly stopped working and sent me home to have a rest… Beneath his silent exterior lies his deep love for me. This love is tough and implicit, but it really lets me grow and makes me strong.
Instructor: Ann Taylor