Over at Catholic Mom, you’ll find my story of an answered prayer in the form of a little sister.
When I was six, I prayed with complete confidence. My mother was pregnant and I prayed for a sister. I remember kneeling by my bed with my mother beside me. I don’t remember her being pregnant the way I experienced my own pregnancies, sharing the size of my expanding belly with my older daughter and marking the baby’s growth by Mommy’s belly, but I remember knowing that my mom was pregnant. And I remember being convinced that God would understand why I needed a little sister.
There are so many reasons a six-year-old girl needs a little sister. I see them now rationally through my adult eyes, but I feel them still with six-year-old emotions. I remember longing for a playmate, for a real life doll of my own, for a sister. I don’t think a brother was ever an option in my world – brothers don’t play My Little Pony and Barbie and adventure girl. A brother, in fact, had no place in my plan.
So I prayed for a sister.
And Mom came home with a brother.
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