Thankful Me: Day 9

We can't choose our family. I'm sure God chuckles to himself when he places the wild child with the prim and proper parents, or connects a sweet-tea lovin' boy with an addicted diet coke girl.

If I had been given a chance to sit on God's lap and thumb through his scrapbook of families, I would choose mine all over again. After I chose my parents, I would open up the book again and look under the tab "siblings". Under that tab, I would always and forever choose the same person.

My sister, Miriam. Also known as "Mirms", "Aunt Mims" and "Mimzy".

I am thankful for my Mims.

She helped me dig to China in our mammoth backyard sandbox behind the first home we ever knew. We made cakes out of dirt as the summer sun set. We lined up together at the end of the hallway every Christmas morning, waiting for Dad to start the music so we could run into the living room full of gifts.

We fought like Cain and Abel during the awkard middle years, and we lived side by side in the dorms of Cotten Hall, like those days never happened. She expertly divulged my affections to a man who is now my husband through instant messenger, without making me look like a foolish college girl. She was so excited he liked me, too, that she couldn't wait to tell me the next morning.

She has a tender heart, and she would give away her last coat in the dead of winter to a shivering stranger.

She treasures relationships, and she wants to be the best daughter, sister, friend.

And,

She is.


Thank you, Mims, for staying true to you.

I'd pick you all over again.