What makes a great big sis?

I am a big sister.

{This was taken at her wedding in '06.  Can you tell whose earring is in the middle?}

I was not always a good big sister.  I used to run after my sister, Rebecca, pin her down, and slowly, ever so slowly, dangle my spit over her face.  Sometimes I didn't suck it back in fast enough.

Do you see how happy we are in this picture?  She still loves me.  She forgave me.  You should, too.

We are the best of friends.  My sister and I share a very deep bond.  I look up to and love her so much my heart hurts.

Ella is, mostly, a much better big sister than I was.  She is overzealous in her attempts to help Jack achieve great heights, but she loves him dearly.  She never tires of spending time with him.

She loves to help with Jack {though when Jack started climbing up stairs recently, I was taking the garbage out, and told her that she needed to keep him away from the stairs.  When I came back in, she was cheering him on, excited to show me how far up he had gotten.  Slight misunderstanding.}

The thing I admire most about Ella is her sharing heart toward her brother.  She encourages him to play in her room, lets him roam around with abandon, and doesn't get upset when he messes up even important things.  She thinks it's great.  I don't know where she got this trait.  When she messes with my stuff, I get mad.  When Jack messes with her stuff, she says, "Silly Jack!" and smiles.

She is an example to me.  Through her, I am often reminded of how I should respond.  Not when she bit his finger last week, but most other times.  Isn't it amazing how our children show Christ to us?

{These pictures are all old.  Check this post to see pictures of a more robust Jack.}