My Nickel’s Worth

When I was five years old, my sister was born. Bryanna had big brown eyes, curly blonde hair, highly intelligent, and as strong and independent as they come. She didn’t need me. She paid me no attention. It was just a horrible thing to be ignored. So, I did the only thing I knew to do: I teased and pestered her until I made her scream. At least she was acknowledging me, right? I whispered in her ear, I tickled her, I put rocks in her shoes, and sang goofy songs until she hit me.

One Christmas, when she was about three, my mother brought Bryanna to the school to take a Santa picture with me. Just before we took the picture, I whispered and said, “Mrs. Claus does not like you, and you are getting coal for Christmas.” Bryanna stomped her foot, stuck out her lip, and the picture was taken. When the picture package came in, they called my mom to the school, and the principal and secretary were laughing so hard they were crying.

Apparently, I had done the un thinkable and had captured my sister’s response to my pestering. It. Was. Awesome! She took one look at this picture, and she screamed and cried and chased me around the house!

Today, my little sister, Bryanna, is a senior in high school. She is still beautiful, smart, has an unbelievable sing

ing voice, and is fiercely independent—and she really doesn’t need me—but the other day she called me, and she said, “I am really glad you are my big brother.” I guess she has somewhat forgiven me for the teasing and pestering, although she gave it right back!

I am so proud of my “little sister,” and when she goes to college next year, she will do well. She lives out her faith and is so passionate about life. Whatever she does, I know one thing—this big brother is going to be her biggest fan. I love you, Bryanna.

And, Sorry - not sorry - about your Santa photo!

(Article and photo republished from the 12/12/19 issue of the