Sisterly presence

A few years ago, I made a project of writing down my favorite Christmas memories. I only got through two or three. Found this one the other day. Sometime I'll edit and rework some of these...

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When I was seven I had one older sister and one younger sister. My older sister was wise. My younger sister was sure. I was in the middle, watching and wondering.
I wanted a baby doll for Christmas that year; one with eyes that opened and closed. But if I spoke too loudly my younger sister Clara would take my idea and say she wanted one. Clara has always been better at making her needs known than I am. I was determined to make sure mom knew about me, somehow. I never really believed in Santa Claus.

I remember the advent table in the corner of the living room, and the couch in front of the window. Mom was slouching on it, her legs apart, watching us play on the floor.
My older sister Dana, always the critical one, rebuked her for her posture; “Don’t sit like that mom, it makes you look like you are pregnant.” Dana was nine and there a was understanding between us that she was the older one and therefor she was always right. Mom seemed amused. A half smile crossed her face.
“Wouldn’t it be funny if I was pregnant?”
Dana tried to raise just one eyebrow and gave mom her best “dream on” look.
“Well, it could happen.” mom laughed.
Dana rolled her eyes “Nah, we’re done.” she said and went back to her game.

Done? This thought had never occurred to me. I contemplated this for a moment: just the three of us? Just Dana, me and Clara? I decided I did not like that idea at all. But Dana was very smart and must know what she was talking about. I looked up at mom; she smiled and winked at me. I glanced at Dana. Nine must be the age of not believing.

Christmas morning came, Dad set up the camera and we ripped our presents open one after the other only stopping to put our new toys in neat piles so they would not get mixed up. Dad sat on the floor, he was “being Santa,” which meant he was in charge of making sure we all had some thing to unwrap and that the gifts that went together were unwrapped in the right order. He dug through and rearranged the heap of brightly colored packages calling out the names on each tag. Finally there were only three presents left. Dad handed one to each of us. My attention was drawn and fixed on the box in my hands.
Yellow curls peered out from beneath a blue and white bonnet. She lay on my lap, contentedly sleeping, long lashes at rest on the rosy cheeks. I carefully opened the box, untwisted the wire that held her and lifted her out. To my delight her lids fluttered open and two bright blue eyes stared back at me. Tinny hands and feet with their little fat fingers and toes made me want to laugh.
When I looked up at last and came back out of my delight, I found Clara happily playing with a previously unwrapped gift, the book she had just received lying forgotten on the floor. Dana had a set of clothing patterns on her lap and a piece of paper in her hand that she had just finished reading aloud. Now she was looking at mom and dad in annoyance.
“So.” she said blankly.
I wanted to know what the paper said but Dana did not want to read it again and so she ignored my inquires. Finally mom explained.
“There is a little person inside me who is about the size of a bean. By August he or she will be big enough to come out. These present are from your new brother or sister.”
I can’t say that I was surprised. Just happy that it was really true. Dana seemed to be in either denial or just acting to cool to admit that she was wrong, it didn’t matter.
I named the doll Rebecca. She was my companion for the next few year.
Then in August the best present of all came; Cecilia had big blue eyes and a little bit of brown hair and tinny hands and feet with fat little fingers and toes.