Sunday, August 21, 2011

For Hazelle

Someone told me last week that some people are born strong, and they are the ones who come through hardship and stay positive. My little sister was born strong.

She is my gentle loving sweetheart. I can hardly remember her crying, because she radiated happiness. At times when our dad was in a killer mood, I would escape with her to my room, turn up the music, and hold her. She loved to cuddle. She would hold my face in her tiny hands and laugh until I had to smile.

As we grew up, she adopted an unassuming personality that helped her avoid the abuse the rest of us suffered. My parents would overlook the small child curled quietly in the corner, observing everything with dark, patient eyes. Sometimes, she would sneak up to my side and hold my hand tightly, offering her childish comfort. Her quiet voice almost always softened even the worst moods my stepdad had, calming him and giving us some relief for a few minutes.

Now she's 15, and one of my mom's most brilliant children. She got the chance to go to public school, and instantly won the affections of her entire class. She has more friends than any girl needs, and I hear she's quite the hot commodity as far as the adolescent boys are concerned. And it doesn't surprise me, because she's sweet, strong, independent and a sharp observer. Those people always make the best friends.

I miss Hazelle so much. She is one of my best friends. She knows how to accept everyone and how to be the best kind of listener. I know she will turn into an amazing woman who exemplifies the courage that our generation should have.