Action speaks louder than words

Love isn’t measured by words alone.

“I love you so much, Mom,” I used to say over breakfast when I was fourteen.

“Really?” she’d smile. “Then next time I come home from work, just peel some potatoes — I’ll feel that love without you saying a word.”

“I adore my cat!” I’d say, pressing my cheek against his soft fur.

“Then maybe you could change his litter box,” Dad would reply. “He’s waiting for someone to care.”

Back then, I couldn’t understand why my parents always turned love into chores. Potatoes, cat litter — what did that have to do with feelings?

When I was seven, I was hospitalized for a few weeks. It was a strict children’s ward on the edge of the city. Parents could only visit at certain times and weren’t allowed inside — they had to stand in the garden and wave through the windows.

My mom came twice a day. Every morning and evening, the nurse would set a small package on my nightstand — a bit of cottage cheese, some fruit compote, a little meatball, maybe some buckwheat. Just enough for one meal, because a few hours later, there’d be another.

And always tucked inside, carefully wrapped in newspaper so it wouldn’t crease, were three or four paper outfits for my dolls. Tiny dresses, jackets, pajamas, each with delicate little tabs to fold over the shoulders. She drew them all by hand — polka dots, ribbons, fur trims, tiny hats.

I never asked for them. They weren’t medicine or vitamins or soup. She just knew I loved them. That was her way of saying, “I love you.”

It took me years to truly understand that — but I never forgot.

We often underestimate the small things. Of course, words matter — we all need to hear “I love you.” But if love isn’t shown through action, the words start to lose their meaning.

You can say “I love you” with roses, with rings, even with grand gestures — and that’s beautiful too. But love often speaks the loudest in the quietest ways.

A friend of ours has a dachshund that lost the use of its back legs. The vet said it would never walk again. Most people would’ve given up. But her husband built a tiny wheeled frame so their dog could still go for walks. For three years now, they’ve taken him out every single day — rain or shine — because love always finds a way.

When love is real, it shows itself constantly and effortlessly.

It’s in walking softly through a dark room so you don’t wake the one sleeping there.

It’s in tucking in a blanket, fixing a pillow, silencing a phone so someone can rest.

It’s in making a cup of coffee just the way they like it.

In the way you shape your child’s breakfast into something that makes them smile.

It’s in listening for hours when a friend needs you.

In giving away your last few dollars for someone’s medicine without a second thought.

Life is long, yet heartbreakingly short. And it’s these small, loving gestures that stay with us.

A true heart always knows when to say “I love you” — not in words, but in care.

I remember my mom and grandma always stepping into the hallway when Dad or Grandpa came home from work — because a man should feel that someone is waiting for him. I try to do the same.

I sit at my desk, writing, lost in thought. I hear the key turn in the lock. “Just one more line,” I tell myself. Then dinner.

And suddenly, beside me — a cup of hot tea, two sandwiches, and a couple of candies already unwrapped, so I don’t get distracted.

I look at them and hear everything I need to hear, without a single word.

Because sometimes, love doesn’t need to be said. It’s already there — in every small act of care.

We just have to remember: “I love you” means the most when it’s lived, not only spoken.