“Ok boys,” she calls, and like ducklings hearing the crumbling of crackers, two toddler boys abandoned trucks on their side, wheels still turning and scampered off to find sister’s voice.
“Come on,” she says as she straightens the bits of papers she found, old art supplies lined up in her own fashion–just for them.
“We are going to making you little books,” she tells them as their sit, quiet hands on their laps, round cheeked faces gazing up, absorbing what was coming from poised sister in teaching mode, big sister mode.
“You get it the stamps, no–watch, push it here…” and they get to work.
Listening and creating, side by side, hoping down in joy flashing their books up to me, ‘I made this’ they tell, as sister grins behind, collecting the left over bits to throw away.
“For there is no friend like a sister in calm or stormy weather; To cheer one on the tedious way, to fetch one if one goes astray, to lift one if one totters down, to strengthen whilst one stands.”