One day during the summer holidays my mother asked me to go to the stream near my home to launder the washing. Because staying at home was dull, my younger sister accompanied me to the stream. While I was doing the washing she was frolicking around in the water. Suddenly she exclaimed, “Look, sis, what is it?” I raised my head and found it was a baby clam. I said, “Oh, it is a baby clam. It is no use.” “Is it edible?” she asked. I nodded before I went back to my washing.


Having finished the job, I went home, followed by my sister. When we were approaching my home, my sister said, “Sis, please wait for me. My clams have dropped on the road. Come and help me pick them up.” It was not until then that I saw she had collected so many young clams from the river. I was angry. I asked her, “Why do you bring them home? Do you know that father and mother hate them?” My sister answered in a low voice, “I will ask mother to cook them for me.”


“No way. Throw them away,” I ordered.


“Where should I throw them?” my sis asked.


“Anywhere you like, as long as you do not bring them home,” I instructed.


“No, sister. We cannot do that. We must take them back to the stream. Otherwise they would die. This is what my teacher told me in school,” she said.


“If you like, just go ahead. I would rather watch TV at home,” I responded.


“OK, I will,” my sister replied. She turned around and started to walk back to the stream with the clams in her hands. Seeing her back, I was lost in thought.

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