Sometime in 1988, a seven year old girl wrapped herself in the drapes in the family room of her home in Stroudsburg, PA, and secretly whispered a prayer to God for a little sister.
Why I wrapped myself in the drapes, I don’t know – maybe it felt safe and hidden. What I do know is that at that time, unbeknownst to me, the God who hears had already answered my prayer. A baby was on the way. The morning our parents told my two brothers and I about the impending arrival of “Babykins” (our family’s name for our unborn little ones – it comes from a Richard Scaary book), we went downstairs and set the table for six, much to Dad and Mom’s amusement.
Saturday, 22 April 1989 was a spring day not unlike today – warm and sunny. And that day, after months of waiting, Emily June made her appearance into the world. I ran around the house with a sense of elation that I’ve rarely felt since. I finally had a sister!
Today, my little sister turns eighteen. “Little” no longer, of course – she’s 4 inches taller than me, but still. I guess she’ll always be my little sister.
Today she is a beautiful, intelligent, kind young woman with a knack for caring for kids, strong academic and leadership records, a talent for drama, high school graduation in a couple of months, and college on the horizon. Where’d those eighteen years go?
Today I remember the sweetness of years gone by, of sisterhood, of sticking together as “the girls” with our four brothers. I remember the typical sisterly friction, the inside jokes, the giggling, the games. I remember our relationship growing as she grew older, so that now we are close friends who share a love for the Lord, a sense of humor, and similar tastes in books and music. We mainly communicate through email and instant messenger. Oh, and Facebook, of course.
Today I miss you, Em. I wish I could give you a hug, kiddo. But shouting HAPPY EIGHTEENTH BIRTHDAY across the wide world web will have to do until 87 days from now.
Nakupenda, dada yangu. Sana.
Made for Eternity 