I stood under the mistletoe（榭寄生）. T

I stood under the mistletoe（榭寄生）. The green, leafy clusters（团，簇）spotted with waxy-white berries hung from the branches of every apple tree. That’s the same stuff they sell in the stores for Christmas decorations, I said to myself. Why can’t I sell mistletoe too? It would be a perfect way to earn money to buy a Christmas gift for my brother, Derek.I took a few steps back, ran, leaped, and reached as high as I could. But the lowest mistletoe cluster was too high. Frustrated, I had started for home, when something strange caught my eye. At the edge of the apple orchard（果园）, one tree stood bare. All the mistletoe had fallen off the branches. Delighted, I carefully picked out the best clusters and put them in my lunch box. When it was full, I rushed across the cornfield to go home.I entered the side door, listening. Yes, a guitar was playing. I pounded on the door. The guitar stopped. A moment later the door was open. My brother stood there wearing his brown leather jacket. “Where are you going?” I asked. “None of your business,” he muttered, sailing past me. It wasn’t easy sharing that small bedroom with my older brother.With Derek out of the room, I emptied the contents of my lunch box onto my bed. As I looked for something to put the mistletoe in, I saw Derek’s guitar on his bed, wrapped in an old towel. That guitar was the only beautiful thing Derek owned, and I knew what to buy with the mistletoe money: a case for that guitar. Even if Derek was bad-tempered sometimes, he was still my brother, and I loved him. Obviously I needed more mistletoe. The next day, I cut through the apple orchard again. A surprise awaited me—two more trees were bare, and more mistletoe! I came across the orchard owner who said he paid a guy to cut all that mistletoe out of his apple trees. He was happy I collected the mistletoe. As I raced for home, I saw Derek, in his leather jacket, was crossing the cornfield. But he ignored me. That night I picked more mistletoe. With all mistletoe sold out, I hurried over to the music store. In the front display window lay a row of wooden recorders. I had learned to play a plastic one at school, and I wanted one of those wooden ones. Each year that was at the top of my Christmas list. But each year there wasn’t enough money.