Sister Who Prayed Me Here

She was six when I was born.  My sister.  She prayed me here.  She held me all the time, bouncing me until I laughed.  Reading to me when I was too young to understand.  Showing me the world around us.  The big world.

Then we moved to the big house

She still loved me then.  I got old enough to love her back.  She was my big sister.  She was easy to love.  She still played with me then, not too old to be tired of me. We laughed all the time then.

We moved again to a faraway place…

The cracker box house mama called it, because, she said, it was built so poorly that the walls might fall down as easy as a cracker box when it got wet.  This house was in the rain.  This was where I fell in love with the rain, just like my sister.  But she grew up in this house.  I couldn’t keep up with her.  She grew too fast for me and she left me behind.  Behind in the rain.  Maybe she forgot.  That I was her sister.  Mama said she didn’t forget about me.

Then we moved back to a big house,

Far away from the rain.  Sister didn’t want to move.  She wanted to stay with the rain, and the beautiful sound it made, and the greenness, and the wet.  She turned angry.   Angry at the big world.  Anger made her mean.  Mean to me.  Mean to us all.  But especially mean to me.  Mama said she still loved me.  Three years of the mean.   And sister moved away.


I missed her something awful.  I cannot tell why.  The meanness never overtook me I guess.  Mama said she still loved me.  Mama said she wouldn’t be mean forever.  So I waited.  I missed her most when it rained.  I still loved the rain.  And now the sad and the wanting, it was like the rain was all the tears I wouldn’t cry.  It was doing the crying for me.  I loved the rain.  I would play in the puddles, and laugh so hard.  I would sleep like a baby being rocked in a cradle.  The rain.  It made me close to sister.  It calmed the wanting.  Sister moved back.  Mama was right.  My sister was back.  The big world she showed me had changed her back to the sister who prayed me here.  Happy filled up my heart again.


She moved again.

 To a place far across the ocean.  Too soon.  I wasn’t ready.  Just when she loved me again.  Mama said she still loves me.  This time I know it’s true, mama says she’ll come back again from the big wide world that she loves.  I know she’s right.

But just now I don’t like the big world for taking her away just when it gave her back to me.

This is a true story.  My daughters’ story.  The one who wrote this together with me, did it for a school assignment.  It has become one of my favorite writings.  They are best friends now, by the way.  A happy beginning and a happy ending.  Just the middle got a little befuddled for a while.  

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