Molly is five years younger than I am, and we were never very close growing up. The age difference definitely played into that, but mostly I think it was my fault. I just didn't know what to do with a sister. I'd spent years without any siblings, and then here comes this girl. What's a boy supposed to do with that? So I picked on her and argued with her and did my best to make her life miserable. (Though, to be fair, Molly can give as good as she gets.)
But then I grew up and left for college. I'd come home for a weekend or Christmas break or the summer expecting to find my annoying little punk sister. But more and more I discovered that Molly was turning into somebody I truly enjoyed hanging around. She had great taste in music and a really solid sense of humor. She was witty and sarcastic. She was smart; she was fun. And to be totally honest, she was much cooler than I ever was. (And now I'm a dad, so let's face it, I'm never getting any cooler.)
I don't know that I can say that Molly and I are extremely close, but we're a lot closer than we used to be. I'm really proud to be her brother. Molly is very mature in her faith in Christ Jesus, she cares deeply about other people, and she's passionate about her teaching career. Molly's a lot of fun, and she also thinks carefully and deeply. I'm very impressed by (and sometimes jealous of) her skill and creativity in writing. She's dependable and hard-working, a good friend and a great sister. Love you, Molls!
Grace and peace,
BMH
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