Auntie M’s younger sister  and only sibling turns fifty today.  Yes (BIG SIGH), the big 5-0, which means to those of you out there astute enough to figure it out, that I’ve been there, done that already.

It doesn’t seem so long ago I was holding her hand and walking her to Sunday School in Floral Park, Long Island, where we grew up.  Our early childhood was idyllic.  The area was cloistered and safe, a suburb of the big city a half hour away by train.  All of the streets were named for trees and flowers, the brainchild of John Lewis Childs, a premier garden supplier of the time who subsequently had a school named after him.

Her hand seemed so small in mine.  I remember the cracked sidewalk on the corner outside Allen Leslie’s house, where we stopped to wait for a passing car on Walnut Avenue.  I told her: “One day your hand will be bigger than mine.”

https://i2.wp.com/h10088.www1.hp.com/gap/images/supporting/large/holding_hands.jpg

We both giggled, because certainly that could never happen.

Happy Birthday, Little Sister~

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