It was time for Mr. Rocco to shut up shop when I hurried into the florist’s. “Now, what is it you want?” Mr. Rocco turned to me. “I want the most beautiful flower you have.” I replied. “And just how much do you have to pay for this most beautiful flower?” I held out a wet hand showing a quarter and dime. He nodded, and then showed me a plant on the counter. “I can give you this one for 35 cents.” he said. “Aw, gee,” I protested, “it looks like a weed!” About 18 inches high, the plant was in a small pot covered with faded red paper. “Now trust me, boy—I promise that tomorrow morning when you get up, you will find your most beautiful flower.” said Mr. Rocco. I knew him to be a good honest man, so I agreed to take it.
It was almost midnight when I arrived home. Mom was seriously sick and using the front bedroom. I looked in to see if she was asleep, and then quietly tiptoed in and set the plant on the table beside her bed. I wanted her to be surprised when she woke on Mother’s Day.
The next morning, I dressed and hurried downstairs. The sun was shining through kitchen window as I looked into Mom’s room. She motioned for me to come in, then glanced over at the table where the plant was. Holy mackerel! There were three big yellow trumpet-shaped(喇叭状的)blooms. It was just like Mr. Rocco said—the most beautiful flower I ever saw! When I looked at Mom, she was smiling as tears streamed down her cheeks. She held out her hand for me to come near, then pulled me close and hugged till i
网络翻译不实际-_-||