They Showed Me What It Means to Be a Sister

Sisters. These two. At the doctor’s office, they showed me what it means to be a sister.

A sister is the one who steps on the scale first when you’re too frightened.

She holds your hand walking down the hallway when you want to run the other direction.

She gives you her complete attention--reading stories to you, coloring pictures with you, and blowing bubbles for you--while the grown-ups have an “hour-long conversation.”

She plays with you in the waiting room, making memories in empty spaces, showing you how to hop like a bunny rabbit and twirl like a ballerina.

She gets the first blood draw, and even though she wants to scream, she doesn’t—because she doesn’t want you to be scared when it’s your turn.

She helps you count to twenty with all the "Mississippis" in between, reminding you that your hard won’t last forever.

She picks out a present to comfort you, one she knows you’ll like (crayons), when you can’t think straight because you’re recovering from the shock of pain.

She helps you pick out your sticker, a princess for a princess or a puppy, because she knows it will make you smile.

She shares her milkshake with you on the drive home, celebrating each victory.

She stays by your side through all of it, the thick and the thin, watching and listening, right there with you.

That’s a lot of what it means to be a sister, and I’m so glad these two have each other.

Read more of Katie's words at Loving My Children on Facebook and at https://www.instagram.com/katietfaris. To learn more about her book, Loving My Children, click here. Email Katie at lovingmychildrenbook@gmail.com.