Today is my sister Joyce's birthday.
I hear when I was born, she shed tears for me. She's only a year older; how many one-year-olds do you know of who know how to cry out of happiness, especially out of joy that a sibling has been born? Okay; you figure I'm not telling the whole story, huh?
What REALLY happened was this (This is over 6 decades ago!):
Joyce had my parents' attention all to herself, until one day Daddy told her Mommy would be coming home with a special present for her, but...
When Mommy came back into the room, Joyce was standing at the side of the crib, looking forlornly at the baby, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Oh, oh, oh." Speaking slowly, Mommy explained to Joycie right away how she had a dear little sister now who needed her to love and protect--could she be a good big sister to her? Gradually, the tears dried up, the hiccups stopped, and the infant began to look innocent, maybe even helplessly cute.
By the next year, when Janice came along, I hear Mommy didn't have to explain things to me; Joycie had done a good job of preparing me, of letting me know that when Mommy came home from the hospital, she would be bringing a special present, a dear little sister who needed to be loved and protected--we'd have to be good big sisters to her!
