My daughter. It breaks my heart to see how low she thinks of herself.

When Mulan returned from the Matchmaker's, she couldn't look me in the eye and turned away in shame.

When I saw her sitting on the stone bench a little later, I went to sit by her. There were tears on her cheeks and she pulled on her hair, something she does when she's upset.

Mulan turned her face away from me when I sat down and I tried to think of a way to cheer her up. I looked at the blooms of the Mudan tree and noticed one bud hadn't opened yet. It reminded me of her, surrounded by teenage girls who had already blossomed and were ready to be new brides. Her peers that she didn't fit in with.

She clearly wasn't ready to become a man's wife and keep house and bear his children.

Not yet. Maybe someday. If she even desired that for her future. I had a feeling she didn't.

"My, my, what beautiful blossoms we have this year. But look, this one's late." I pointed to the little bud that hadn't opened yet. Her hair comb lay on her lap, so I picked it up and tucked it into her hair.

"I bet that when it blooms, it will be the most beautiful of all."

She must have known that I meant her, because she finally turned to face me and smiled and I returned it. I hope I was able to give her a little bit of hope for her future. I wanted her to know that all is not lost.

Most of all, I hope she knows how much her mother, grandmother and myself love her. Our love for our only child and grandchild isn't based on her performance or even the honor she brings us. It is simply about loving her because she's our daughter and granddaughter.

But I don't think she knows that. To her, it really is all about her performance. The rest of the world may only accept her if she performs to a socially set standard. Perhaps that is true. But, inside these walls, she's accepted for who she is.

When the drums started beating, I knew what it was right away. I had heard that sound when the Mongols had invaded 17 years ago and I had answered the Emperor's call.

It was during that war I was injured. I've never walked normally since, and each step is taken with pain that I never let on about.

We had been fighting a battle against the Mongols, mostly on horseback. We were outnumbered 3 to 1, but were pushing them back as the Mongol warriors fell one after another.

I had been knocked from my horse by a blow to my side with a sword. It knocked the wind out of me and I was unable to move out of the way in time to avoid my horse as he was struck by arrows and fell.

He landed on my left upper leg and hip. It shattered much of my left femur. I was taken home and bedridden for months, while Li cared for me and one year old Mulan. She had been born while I'd been at war. I hadn't even known Li was pregnant when I'd left, until she sent me a letter about it. I didn't meet my daughter until she was a year old.

I was never able to run around and play with Mulan, but we spent many hours sitting on the stone bench talking or just watching nature. She had never known life without a disabled father.

When the drums had once again sounded the day of her disastrous Matchmaker test, I knew I had to answer the call of duty again. I also knew I may not come back this time.

Nevertheless, I stepped forward to accept my conscription notice without my crutch when our family name was called.

I saluted. "I am ready to serve the Emperor."

Just as the Imperial captain was about to hand it to me, Mulan came running up.

"Father, you can't go!"

What was she doing? Women were not to speak in the presence of men other than family. Did she forget everything we'd taught her about manners and behavior?

"Mulan!" I wanted her to go back inside our gates right away. But, she didn't.

"Please, Sir…" She turned to the captain. "My father has already fought bravely."

The captain started to pull the conscription notice back. He must have known that she spoke the truth. I had indeed fought bravely and bore permanent scars and he knew this. He'd fought alongside me. I was about to tell him I would go anyway.

But just then, a person I can only describe as a rat in man's clothing pulled his horse up by me.

Chi Fu.

We went way back, but not as comrades. He was the Emperor's counsel during the Mongol's invasion, and even then had the impression his job was to tell everyone what they were doing wrong.

He had never wielded a sword in battle, but thought he knew how to do it better than anyone else. The man was also a coward. I'd seen him run and hide during battles, then when they were won he'd take the credit for a victory for himself.

Words didn't do justice to how much I disliked Chi Fu.

"Silence! You would do well to teach your daughter to hold her tongue in a man's presence."

I had taught her. Did this man not understand raising a headstrong teenager meant they didn't always have regard for what you taught them? She had my stubbornness and unwillingness to back down from a threat, especially if that threat was an Imperial officer with a conscription notice for her crippled father. I had to admit, I admired her courage.

But, at the same time, I was angry at her brashness. I turned my head away from my daughter. She spoke the truth, but this was not proper behavior. It could get her into trouble one day.

"Mulan, you dishonor me." My mother put her arm around Mulan and led her back inside.

He handed me the conscription notice. "Report tomorrow to the Wu Zhong camp."

"Yes, sir." I saluted again. I took the scroll. I would go, and I would die protecting my country. I slowly limped back through the gate to my home.

Li tried to hand me back my crutch, but I pretended not to see and walked straight to the closet where my armor was kept.

I pulled out the sword I had not held in fifteen years, and moved through various sword-fighting formations. When I tried to stand on just my left leg, the pain was so severe I dropped the sword and fell with a cry. Then I dragged myself to a pillar and pulled myself up, still in agony. I pulled the conscription notice out of my robe and stared at it in frustration. I couldn't do simple sword moves, so how could I effectively fight in battle?

But the Fa stubbornness in me insisted that I could and would go to war. My country needed me to.

Dinner that night was quiet, very quiet. I downed my three cups of tea and ate rice and dumplings, aware it was my last meal with my family. We were all aware of it. I saw the other three exchange sad looks frequently, but they said nothing.

I saw an angry look cross Mulan's face, and suddenly she slammed down the tea pot she'd been holding.

"You shouldn't have to go."

Li tried to get her to quiet down. "Mulan!" But, she was her father's daughter and wouldn't back down.

"There are plenty of young men to fight for China."

That wasn't the point. "It is an honor to protect my country and my family." Perhaps she didn't understand my sense of duty to the Emperor.

"So you'll die for honor?" Yes, I would. I would die for honor. It was worth dying for.

"I will die doing what's right."

"But…"

At this point, I'd had enough. I stood up, even though I was in pain from my fall earlier. This was what I had to do. What she had to do was learn to accept that a man's place was on the battlefield, and a woman's place was at home.

I yelled at my daughter. "I know my place, and it's time you learned yours." She flinched as if I had physically struck her, which I have never done, and ran outside.

I sat back down, wondering if I was too hard on her. Li looked at me as if she thought I had been, and my mother just silently looked at her tea. Her own father had been killed in battle when she was young, and perhaps she understood Mulan. I thought she might follow her, but she didn't.

Mulan was still outside when Li and I turned in for the night. Li was crying over my leaving, and refused to be comforted, so I blew out the candle and went to sleep in my home for the last time. I never expected to be woken up just a few hours later.

My mother ran into our room with a candle. "Mulan is gone!"

I immediately reached for my conscription notice. It wasn't there. In its place was her bridal hair comb, which I picked up and stared at. "It can't be!"

I limped as quickly as I could to the closet. Upon opening it, I discovered with a shock that my armor was gone.

Mulan had taken it and was going to disguise herself as my son I never had and take my place in the army.

Maybe there was still time to stop her. I limped out to the courtyard, calling for her. Her horse, Khan, was gone and the gate swung open. I lost my footing and slipped in the mud, my precious daughter's hair comb flying out of my hand.

"No!"

Li ran up and knelt by me. "You must go after her. She could be killed."

It was too late. "If I reveal her, she will be."

At this, Li began to cry. I pulled her into my arms as we both knelt in the rain and mud, grief stricken. She buried her head in my chest while I stared at the gate. A million possible scenarios of what could happen to my beloved daughter ran through my head. She could be discovered and beheaded or raped. There was a good chance she would be killed in battle, or even collapse during the grueling training.

Why didn't I see this coming? I knew she was headstrong, and would rate my life above her own. She would rather die than to lose me. But I would rather die than to lose her.

I heard my mother pray as she watched Li sobbing. "Ancestors, hear our prayers. Watch over Mulan." I echoed it in my heart. I wasn't able to form words as I held my grieving wife and continued to stare at the gate. I don't know how long we stayed there in the rain and mud, but I remember that it was daylight when Li finally got to her feet and helped me up.

Each night she was gone, I had nightmares of my daughter's demise. I think we all did. When we were even able to sleep, that is.

I had to make my wife eat and sleep or else she would have just stood at the door everyday waiting for Mulan to return.

My mother prayed for hours in the temple everyday. In Mulan's absence, she made sure I drank my 3 cups of tea morning and night. I spent hours every day sitting on the stone bench or in the temple praying.

Meals were so quiet, and so sad. I missed my daughter. We all did. I'd give anything to have her slam down a pot of tea again. To hear her mouth off to me and Li, or crack jokes with my mother. I wish I could hear her complain about cleaning the chicken coop again, or shoveling out the horse's stalls.

Little Brother, her dog, slept on her bed. His eyes were sad.

We missed Mulan's clumsiness, and her outbursts. We longed to hear her singing during her chores again. Even the chickens seemed to miss her.

Absolutely nothing was right without her there.

Every day we prayed for her safe return. And every day our hearts broke a little more.

Please come home again, Mulan. I begged this in my heart every day, every minute.

Then, one day, she did.

I was sitting on the stone bench thinking about her when the late-blooming bud, now a flower, landed on my lap. It was the bud I had compared her to, that when it blossomed, would be the most beautiful of all.

That was when Mulan walked up to where I sat. I couldn't believe my eyes. She was home and alive!

"Mulan!"

I started to stand up, but then she knelt on the ground in front of me. She looked like she expected me to be angry.

"Father, I brought you the sword of Shan Yu." She placed the jagged sword in my hands. How in the world?

"And the crest of the Emperor." She placed that in my hands as well.

Wow.

"They're gifts to honor the Fa family."

So now she understood honor.

But it wasn't about that, anymore. I tossed the gifts onto the ground and knelt down and threw my arms around her. Tears ran down my cheeks, but I didn't care.

"The greatest gift and honor is having you for a daughter. I missed you so." I held her like I would never let her go.

She was crying as she hugged me back. "I missed you, too, Baba."

We finally had our Mulan back. I noticed she stood straighter and spoke with more confidence. She believed in herself now.

Though she didn't say much about it, she was a hero. This was confirmed by her captain, who had followed her home to bring her helmet to her. They told us the story of the avalanche and the invasion at the palace.

I thanked him for sparing her life. How many nightmares had I woken from, so sure she'd been beheaded by a commanding officer?

I couldn't help but notice the way he looked at Mulan and wasn't surprised when he asked me for permission to marry her. I told him that if it was what she desired, that he had my blessing.

What I wanted was for her to truly find happiness. She deserved it.

My daughter was a hero, to China and to me. She had finally found a reason to believe in herself.