My sister?

You're kidding!

Sure, I like her,

But I don't remember sharing toys.

Where was she

When I needed salve for my childish hurt?

Yes, she was there

When my own boy needed help.

Parents can't do it all, you know.

It takes love from others, too.

Frankly, we didn't know what to do.

Yes, because of that I'd do anything

—For her.

 

                                    But…my sister?

Mom and Dad never told me about her.

There was Ellen

And there was Jean

—But Marnie?

They say Ellen and I

Look alike.

Maybe so,

But I know Marnie doesn't look like me.

She doesn't even act like me.

She's sweetness personified.

Me?—I struggle.

 

My sister, You say!

Oh, I wish that were true.

You told me Heaven

Would be a continuation

Of our best relationships.

I want to be there

When the time comes

Because I know

The Marnies of the world

Go there.

 

Sister!

I like the sound of that.

I don't see how it could be,

But if You say it,

I believe it.

I understand how she

Could be Your daughter.

I'm trying to also understand

That I'm Your son.

That's harder.

I know me.

 

Did we really know

Each other there?

Did we play?

—Go to school together?

I guess we're still doing it.

She's taught me a lot

About faith—and prayer.

She's been a choice experience,

In many ways.

I'll do anything at all for her,

Father.

You tell me,

I'll do it.

She's

My Sister.

 

 

9 July 1983

Written to a distressed, depressed member of

my ward while I was bishop.  It did the trick.