I walked into the shimmering night that would
change my life forever.
I would meet my only sibling, my sister Angela. It was October 10, 2003.
Nine years later I still remember walking into the Doylestown Hospital
with my dad and seeing all my relatives. I remember the black and starry
night above me as I held my dad’s hand and walked into the hospital.
When I walked in, the nurse, as always, gave me a lollipop. Then I got
on my dad’s shoulders and walked into the room where my sister and mom
were. There were relatives in the room that I had never seen before. I
thought about my sister, and hoped she would be like me. I wondered what
her personality would be. I walked up to the crib, a shiny bed, and
stared at my new sister.
I asked my dad, “What is her name?”
My dad answered kindly, “Your mom and I were thinking of Angela. You
know, Angel with an extra a.”
“That’s a pretty name,” I responded.
To this day my sister says she is an Angel, even at the darkest moments.
Then I wondered what she would be like. I wondered what her interests
would be. I wondered a lot of things, but I could not answer them. It
was an enigma that I couldn’t solve.
I might have said, “Will we get along?”
I was holding my favorite pillow, a tiny paradise that I procured when I
was born, and I clutched it tightly like a running back clutches a
football. It was a small yellow square with Bugs Bunny in the center. I
hoped that my new sister and I would be best friends. I stayed there in
the hospital room for a while, wondering and wondering. What would be
her favorite hobbies? What sports would she play? Would she be smart?
Would we play together? There were so many questions that I could not
I could hear my relatives wishing good luck to my mom, asking what foods
she would get, toys, and even clothes. I was now not the center of
attention. I used to be the youngest child born in my family, relatives
included. Now instead of focusing on me, they would focus on my sister.
From that night on, whenever we went over to a relative’s house, the
first person they would greet would be Angela. That would be different
if that night had not happened, but it did.
By then all my relatives had left; it was only me and my family—my new
family. When I went home it was one o’clock in the morning. I did not
want to go; I wanted to learn more. I do not know if I fell asleep at
all because I was still wondering.
Without that night, my life would be completely different. I would not
see my sister at 3:30 every day when she comes home from school. I would
not play games with her, help her with her homework, or go outside with
her. I might be lonelier without that night. I walked out of the
hospital and into the twinkling night that changed my life.