Chapter 7 — Behind Mother's Tears

“What do you think?” I thought for a moment. “If a person sees love as a rope, wanting to drag you into the mud.” “Then you shouldn't hold on to that rope.” “You should cut it off.” My mother laughed. Outside the window the snow had stopped, the pine tree in the yard covered with white frost, so clean it glowed. For many years, everyone thought that my mother was a flower protected by men. Actually, she just hid the thorns very carefully. She knows how to cry, knows how to be weak, knows how to bow her head. But she never gave her mind away. Never gave up my final boundary. I didn't understand before. Now I understand. Women can be gentle, can be beautiful, can appear inoffensive. But the books must be clear, the heart must be strong, the evidence must be in your hands. My mother is not a weak wife who cannot leave her husband in Thanh Hoe Ly. She is a blade with a soft shell. But I, finally learned how to hold a knife.