Nat

My sister’s birthday is this week. Her name is Hope, and I’ve always loved the name, especially since it describes her perfectly. Everything about her makes me happy: her sense of humor, her optimism, her love of life, and her devotion to family and friends. Hope married the man she met first semester of her freshman year of college. She knew from the outset that he was the perfect mate for her, that he would make her happy and share her dreams.

Consequently, they have raised wonderful children, two boys, who themselves are loving and animated. They make a great family, and I feel lucky to have them whenever I’m around them or whenever we talk on the phone.

Hope makes me laugh, even when I’m feeling grim, and I’m smart enough to know what a gift that is. Gratitude can be difficult for me when I’m feeling sorry for myself. At those times, I can’t always find in myself a quick reason to be glad. So I often call my sister, and she makes me feel good.

I’m immensely fortunate that way. My wife, stepdaughter, sister, and mother all make me appreciate who I am. I’ll mail Hope’s birthday card tomorrow and will think that she is always a gift given to me.