When I was young, my father used to grow carnations  ----- a kind of flower which was red, pink and white. He took care of them with much love and devotion. Every day he came back home from work, he would enjoy watching them. Everyone who saw them admired them for their beauty. And he used to tell us, "No one should touch my flowers."
One day, my younger sister Clemence, who loved dad very much, wanted to help him. So she cut the carnations from their stems  one by one and arranged them on the ground. She believed that dad would be very pleased to see them that way.
When mom and I realized what my sister had done, we became completely speechless. However, my sister had no idea why no one showed her any appreciation. When my dad arrived, he went straight to see the flowers as usual. Seeing his flowers lying on the ground like dead animals, he was shocked at first. He looked towards the street to see if it was any of the neighbor's children who could have done it. Then he looked at mom in silence. Finally mom, who always taught us to tell the truth no matter what, said, "No bad neighbors did this great job, only your lovely daughter Clemence."
Dad's face changed into a smile and then he said, "Do I have a better flower than my lovely daughter?" My younger sister smiled and hugged dad strongly.
How did Clemence feel when she had the carnations cut?
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