"Little" Sister

My sister, Lisa, and I were born two years and two days apart. Though we were both (supposedly) "Virgos" and born in the same volatile era of the mid-60's, we had little else in common. I remember when I first peered over the crib to cast my eyes upon the present my mom brought home to me from the hospital: the little butterball of dark-eyed, angry flesh that was my sister. She screamed. But I was unaffected. I loved my sister from the first moment I saw her--probably because she was, in many ways, my opposite.

As the years went by, we got to be friends. Playing together almost constantly. In this picture, we're seated (I think) on a metal lawn chair my Grandma Jerry had (or maybe it was my Grandpa Fred's chair). Lisa's the one on the right about to sink her teeth into a nice book. I'm in the bonnet on the left.

Lisa grew up to be one of the strongest and most beautiful women I've ever known. Olive-complected, lean and taller than me, she is a safety engineer and owner of a company that works for the National Lab in New Mexico. She prays with me when I need it most and is quite the strong Christian. I love her very much, and thank my mom and dad for getting her to me. Lisa and I both have children of our own: one boy each. Sometimes I wonder how they'll do without a sister (or brother) like I've had to make it through the world.

Despite the huge differences between Lisa and I, she just happens to be a match for my bone marrow. Go figure! Who'd have thought such a thing were possible between two women so different.

God moves in mysterious ways, huh?