They make plans and come pleading for specific dresses, pastries at the bakery, errands, and the glorified, center booster seat.
They give affection when it's due and sometimes, just because. They argue and holler over toys not out of necessity or desire but simply because the other one has it which means it's now a treasure.
Sisterhood in the making of little girls close in proximity and in age, currents running through their veins of mama, daddy, and their own flare in style of emotion. They're girls. They cry for no reason, have short fuses, want independence, and flash those deep blue eyes graced with long dark lashes in hopes of the request being met with a yes. They finish each other's sentences and know where the other one is going before she gets there. Similarities in laughter and tears, individualism at its finest and yet a common thread that unites them all the same.
They are sisters.
Sweet sisterhood being woven by the Master who declares promises they will be like strong pillars, adorning a palace wall. Cloaked in honor and beauty, fearing His majesty, and knowing they are destined for greatness, plans to prosper and bring hope and a future. A future so deeply rooted in the living water that promises to restore their souls and dwell deep within them.
Sisters. A new chapter we're learning comes wrapped in His grace and provision of the precious gift of this house of pink.
She is mother hen. Wanting to nurture and care for all smaller than her. A classic first born girl, finding her balance to be noticed and to help. Wanting to be a little girl yet with fierce desire for contact with people, relationship, the energy from a crowd. She colors for hours and every picture she draws has mom written at the top.
Powerful things come in small packages. She is full to the brim with fire and preference. Still the loud, little one filling the hospital room with her screams announcing she's here. Loving her time of solace when sharing or communicating isn't required. Her love for babies is at an all time high, a mix of sources between the anticipation of a little sister coming and her genuine love for any little nugget she can squeeze and baby talk to. Sister makes and creates for hours in her sand table, talking quietly to herself and very satisfied in her own world.
Her personality is emerging, the sweetness still running throughout her responses and yet mischievousness is rising to the surface. Sister loves her cuddles and gives affection whenever you ask, nudging her way into my neck each night as I sing and lay her to sleep. Still requesting her space from older sisters wanting to mother and protect. A carefree spirit combined with a toughness of her little road she has traveled.
These sisters astound me with their grace and fire, each channeling her own version of little girl and her place, her role of sister.
Big sister, oldest sister, little sister, youngest sister.
A tapestry of relationship woven together in threads of friendship, companionship, and deep rooted love growing daily.
The gift of sisterhood.
"...and may our daughters be like graceful pillars, carved to adorn a palace."