Field Note No. 10

Sister Season

The greatest compliment you can give the eight-year-old in this season is that her baby sister looks just like her.

When someone says it, she stands a little taller.

Her chest lifts just a bit, pride blooming across her face like the sun breaking through clouds.

That’s my baby.

To sit in a room with the two of them is pure joy. The kind that settles deep in your bones. The kind that feels so full and bright you almost think you might float away.

The baby studies her with wide eyes.
The older one watches back with quiet devotion, already so careful with her, already so sure of her place.

Sometimes I just sit and take it in.
This tiny beginning of a sisterhood that will stretch far beyond this island.

And I find myself whispering the same small hope over them again and again:

May their love for each other only grow.
May they always recognize a piece of home in one another.