Little Sister

by Lina Rehal

Dressed up in my clothes,
she stomped around the house
in my high heeled shoes, wearing my lipstick
and dots of rouge I dabbed on her cheeks
so she could be like her big sister.
She spent hours in my bedroom,
listening to my records,
playing with my perfume bottles,
going through my jewelry box,
asking questions, observing my every move,
being the little sister.
I wound her hair in curlers
and polished her tiny fingernails.
We played Candyland and Old Maid.
She invited me to tea parties in the back yard.
I taught her how to make potholders.
We fed ducks by the pond
and threw scraps of our dinner
at the hungry gulls on Revere beach.
We rode the flying horses at the church carnival.
I took her to the playground
and pushed her on the swings.
Eating butterscotch sundaes,
we watched Elvis in Blue Hawaii.
She was my little flower girl,
proud of me on my wedding day,
sad that I was leaving home.
We look back at those days often,
finding humor in our own private jokes;
things between sisters.
"Do you remember the time...?" she asks.
"Yes, little sister. I remember."

The Author

Lina Rehal is a freelance writer and poet whose short stories, essays and poems have appeared in several online magazines and two anthologies. A full time executive secretary and mother of two grown children, she lives with her husband on the north shore near Boston. Her travel and feature articles and photographs have been published in newspapers. She is currently working on an anthology of nostalgic stories about growing up during the 1950s-1960s. Visit her website at luvs2write.com.