We laughed, and he stroked my head in blessing. "Now I'll take off my coat. Mamma, get some wine. We'll thank God and honor our daughter."

　　It was only then that I realized I did not teach my father. He taught me. It was he who had engaged me in the conquest of language. It was he who told me to be direct, to be watchful, to listen with my eyes and to ask with my mouth. From his silence, my father taught me the true power of speech.