Mary is big.
Binkies and pull-ups are long gone. As are those super tight toddler pajamas and asking your mom to buckle you in the car seat. She fits in clothes from the girls section at Target, and she adeptly manages a menagerie of best friends. Mary is learning to read and write and tell time and add numbers and tie a bow. She can also pour her own milk and cut her own carrots.
Mary is big.
Also, she gave her first talk in Primary on Sunday. Which she prepared herself, dictating to me her carefully chosen words. And which she proudly read off a piece of notebook paper in front of the other children.
"Jesus loves us. Jesus helps us. Jesus shows us the right way. I can choose the right way."
Isn't Mary a big girl?
The problem, then, is that no matter how big she gets, she finds that she remains "David's little sister."
Very frustrating.
"I'm not David's little sister! I'm his BIG sister!"
We try to explain how she is his little sister because she is younger, and she will always be his little sister.
"But aren't I big?"
"Yes, you are."
"I am a big girl! So I am a big sister now."
There's nothing we can say to convince her otherwise. If Mary is anything, it's stubborn.
So big sister she is.
