From Chicken Soup for the Sister's Soul

Where’s My Little Sister?

Ten-year-old Bobby was given the assignment to write an essay in as few words as possible on two of life’s greatest problems. He wrote, “Twin sisters.”

Author Unknown

For months, we looked forward to the new baby sister. Even though we were not positive that she was a little girl, in all of our hearts, there was no doubt. My husband Roy, twin sons Brad and Chad, and I prepared a pink room filled with dolls and lace. Because the boys were at the ripe old age of four, they were able to help out a great deal. We made her future arrival a family affair, filled with fantasies of a precious little angel who would make our home complete.

The day finally arrived. My husband rushed me to the hospital, while my in-laws got the boys ready to go meet their little sister, the newest member of our family. The labor went quickly, and before I knew it, my husband and I were in the delivery room.

With the piercing of a scream, Becky came into the world. She was just as beautiful as we had imagined. After the nurse cleaned her up, she placed her in my arms. Her crying turned into a cooing hum, as her little eyes met mine. Tears flowed down my husband’s face as he welcomed her into the world.

“Go get the boys,” I shouted. “They are a part of this, too.” With that, my husband rushed out the delivery room door, while the nurse pushed Becky and me into the hallway. In a few brief moments, the doors from the waiting room swung open. Roy came back in carrying a twin in each arm. I saw the perfect picture of my three men with huge smiles on their faces.

“Brad and Chad, this is Becky,” Roy proudly announced, while the nurse watched.

“Hi Becky,” Brad said, as he reached down toward his little sister.

I noticed Chad as he began wiping tears away from his eyes, looking all around.

“What’s wrong, Chad?” I asked.

With his little lip quivering he asked, “Where’s my little sister?”

“Becky is your sister too, Chad,” I replied.

“Becky is Brad’s sister. Candy was supposed to be mine,” Chad said to the nurse. “We both wanted a sister.”

After a few minutes of trying to console him, my in-laws took the boys back home. As they left, Chad continued to look around for his missing baby.

For several months their bedtime prayers ended in this manner: “Jesus, thank you for our little sister. Please give us another little sister.”

Becky was a colicky baby and spent almost every night up screaming at the top of her lungs. After about three months of sleepless nights, I heard the boys as their prayer slightly changed. In unison they said, “Jesus, thank you for our little sister, but we don’t need another one.”



Nancy B. Gibbs

“It’s designed specifically for colicky babies.”

CLOSE TO HOME. © John McPherson. Reprinted with permission of UNIVERSAL PRESS SYNDICATE. All rights reserved.

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