I was still in bed this morning, trying hard to focus my mind on the fact it was a Saturday and Ididn’thavetogetup, when my little sister waltzed in the room, obviously in great need of sister time. We talked a little, very groggily on my part, and the upshot of the matter was that I was showing her Bangladesh on the globe, and explaining exactly where it was, and the area surrounding it. Why? Because we have a VOM calendar hanging in our bathroom, and every morning we pray for whoever is listed. Today, it was Christians in Bangladesh who are denied wells of water.
And what about our entirely-girl-sushi-time, when the conversation ranged heavily over whyisthatguystaringatyou, can-I-have-a-milkshake, what are these little calamari-no-fish-eggs-things, how do you know who James Bond is, and no seriously, CAN I have a milkshake?
I bought the poor thing a milkshake.
Influence over wee people. Oh, you mean like the other day when I freakin’ burst into tears because she was brushing her teeth when I wanted to? Well, so much for being 18. Or when I totally burst into tears on my entire family and stomped out of the room. And when I argued with everything. Or when I woke her up because I was crying my eyes out in bed because I was sick.
Uhm. I just realized how much I cry. Greeeeat.
…and sometimes it’s funny. The wee little girl I babysit sometimes, who took one look at my muscle spasms and started mimicking it. You have NO IDEA how funny it looked to see a 2-year-old look over the back of the pew and start jerking her arm. We almost disrupted the entire service.
Little people look up to us. Does my little sister see me reading the Bible, studying hard to take exams well, smiling even when I’m mocked to my face, laughing when it’s hard? Or does she see me rotting my mind in Bon Jovi [and no, I am not dissing Bon Jovi. It is essential to midterms], complaining about my job/my studies/the weather/dinner/who’s playing Enjolras, and the fact I just drank three cups of coffee straight.
Take the time for your siblings today. Ten minutes of just-you-and-wee-little-person… heck, even if it’s just a phone call or a postcard… it might do the trick.
They need lovin’ too.