Sometimes I really wonder {#blank#}1{#/blank#} there is love between my parents. Every day they are very busy {#blank#}2{#/blank#} (make) money. They don't act in the romantic ways that I read about in books or I see on TV. {#blank#}3{#/blank#} their opinion, "I love you" is too much to say.

    One day, my mother was sewing a quilt. I quietly sat down beside her and looked at her.

    "Mom, I have a question for you," I said, breaking the {#blank#}4{#/blank#} (silent).

    "What?" she asked, still doing her work.

    "Is there love between you and Dad?" I asked her in a very low voice.

    She stopped her work and raised her head with surprise in her eyes. But then she continued to sew the quilt. I was very embarrassed because I thought I had hurt her.

    It seemed like {#blank#}5{#/blank#} very long time before my mother started to speak again. "Susan," she said thoughtfully, "look at this thread. Sometimes it appears, but most of it disappears in the quilt. The thread makes the quilt strong. If life is a quilt, then love should be a thread. It can {#blank#}6{#/blank#} (hard) be seen anywhere or anytime, but it's really there. Love is inside."

    I listened carefully but I didn't understand before the next spring. My father had a stroke (中风) and couldn't walk by {#blank#}7{#/blank#} (he) any more. After that, my mother helped my father walk outside every day. Along the country road, there were many beautiful {#blank#}8{#/blank#} (tree). They two, hand in hand, walked slowly. To me, that was {#blank#}9{#/blank#} (beautiful) picture in the world — that's a picture of love.

    They still don't say "I love you" to each other. But I know they have deep love for each other. I used to think love {#blank#}10{#/blank#} (mean) flowers and sweet kisses. But actually, love is just a thread in the quilt.