My little sister, Jane, and I are ridiculously far apart in age. Seven years, to be exact, which isn’t as far as my older sister and I, at nine years difference. I remember distinctly when Jane was born, that I feared very fiercely what would happen to our family. I knew that babies were expensive, and we were still struggling to make ends meet, so for a while, I resented my little sister.
Jane cried through the night, everyone loved her, but I avoided her. My mother always said it was weird how I never wanted to help with the baby, but when I came home early from school one day, she was yelling about how she hadn’t slept yet and how I needed to hold Jane so she could load some laundry. Apparently, I yelled “No!” and locked myself in my room, but my mother dragged me out and sat me down in her rocking chair. Before handing Jane to me, mom said, “This is your sister. Be VERY careful!
My sister? My sister
I was seven years old, and she was the first thing in the world that was mine.
I realized then that I could never hate her. She looked at me with fascinated eyes and laughed when I tickled her cheeks. She held my hand with unwavering implicit trust and drooled on my hair when she fell asleep. So I learned how to warm break milk for her bottle and change a diaper. I learned how to comfort her and balance her on my hip while I made lunch one-handed.
I might have taught her how to walk, and read, and ride a bike. But she taught me how to be kind, and patient, and selfless.
Now, we’re inseparable, and I love her more than anything.
BẠN ĐANG ĐỌC
Vanishing Girls Writing Challenge
Truyện NgắnI loved the stories I read this month. You guys are getting better and better with every writing challenge! This challenge was especially fun because of the variety in the entries. There were poems, fiction, non-fiction… I loved them all! Below are...
