Sisters

I have a sister. A real, live, totally mine, sister. Only one - and I was lucky to get her. Mom and Dad went on to have four boys. Consequently, it was her and me against the world - kind of. She was born about a year and a half after me, and I don't remember my life without her. And, she was born on Father's Day. Show off. On a beautiful June day, she made Dad proud, Mom happy, and me ecstatic.

When we were this old, she was Tonto to my Lone Ranger. We were inseparable. We were also different as night and day...

I was rowdy and loud, always bouncing, laughing, kicking something or throwing something - usually a doll. Cindy was restrained and soft, always calm, smiling and cuddling or hugging something - usually a doll. Until the boys got older... then she could beat us all up. Even me.

A friend told me a true story about two sisters, Beth and Phyllis. (Beth was about 10 years older than Phyllis.) When Beth was 8, a wealthy aunt gave her a beautiful porcelain baby doll that had been made in Germany. Beth was in awe of this beautiful doll. She kept it in the box and rarely took it out - she would look at it every day and marvel that she had such a precious gift. When her baby sister Phyllis was about 5, the Great Depression had taken it's toll on the family. There was no money for Christmas. The girls' mother asked Beth to let "Santa" give Phyllis that beautiful doll for Christmas. There was no money for any other gift. Beth struggled with the idea, but finally agreed to relinquish her treasure. The exquisite doll was given to the little sister.

It's a tender story, to that point. But it gets better. About two weeks after Christmas, Phyllis heard her sister crying as she talked to her mom. She began to understand that her beautiful baby doll had really belonged to her big sister. So, little Phyllis took her precious gift and gave it to her gracious sister. Hugs, tears, gratitude and unselfish love.

Sister stuff.