Welcome home, baby sister

My youngest sister, Maryam (Bug), just returned to the States after having spent the spring semester in Peru, volunteering at the Light and Leadership Initiative. Though I missed her for the duration of her trip, Bug documented her stories so well that I felt as though I was there alongside her. Here’s a tiny glimpse of the world from her lens.

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If you haven’t noticed yet, I’m unabashedly proud of my tiniest sibling. She’s been a go-getter from day one, and I’m endlessly amazed by her vigor. This is the first time that she’s really “left the nest,” but I can vividly remember the early morning when she joined my family. Without delving into a full-blown story about her birth, I have to say that her entrance into my life was a dream come true. From the youngest age, I envisioned having a little sister, and given my religious upbringing (more on that later), I practiced prayerful begging (to my parents, to god, to whatever entity was in charge of “making a baby”) until about the age of seven. Finally, my ritualistic communication with the entity-in-charge worked its magic, and my parents shared the big news with big brother Isaiah and (newly crowned!) big sister Ruya. It was probably my greatest accomplishment to date, and I welcomed every opportunity to taunt Isaiah with songs about the (inevitably) female child that I wished into existence.

But nothing, and I mean nothing, could have prepared me for the wondrous creature that popped out of the womb nine months later. She was absolute perfection. Just as she is now.

Welcome home, baby sister.

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