Sisters are a blessing?  Or a curse?

Growing up I was fortunate to have two older sisters.  Time and distance now separate us, but the older I get, the more I like to remember those days when we were young and still free of wrinkles, arthritic backs and grey hair.

Velma

My oldest sister, Velma, was often more of a second mom than a sister.  Nine years older than me, she helped Mother out by seeing that I was dressed for church or school and my hair properly combed.  She helped me with my homework and told me stories.  They tell me when I was only a few weeks old Mother went to get me out of the crib to carry me to the car for a trip to town.  Panicked when I was not in the crib, she looked out the window to see my sister holding me in her arms…