As a StoryTerrace writer, Erin interviews customers and turns their life stories into books. Get to know her better by reading her autobiographical anecdote below
The spring rain had finally cleared making way for outdoor adventure. I walked through dad’s vegetable garden, investigating every row for evidence of life until I spotted an orange carrot top breaking through the topsoil. I reached my hands around the stem and pulled out a carrot so perfectly ripe, seven-year-old me concluded confidently that Bugs Bunny would approve.
Since Bugs wasn’t around to share my discovery, I ran into the house to show my mother who was resting on the sofa. I jumped in her lap, eager to show off the bounty.
“Careful!” she warned, with a sharpness that got my attention. “You could injure the baby.”
I had already fallen in love with my soon-to-be baby brother or sister so the information that I could harm him or her was taken seriously. I forgot about the carrot and my mind turned to other thoughts.
My parents told my sister and me about the pregnancy as we sat in the last pew of Saint Bede’s Church, waiting for Christmas Eve service to begin so we could get to the really good stuff – the stockings, gifts, and lively gatherings with extended family.
This baby news shifted my youthful perspective on good gifts.
I was already a little sister and the thought of getting my shot at big sister was like hitting the jackpot. We would play together, and I – finally being an elder – would get to call all the shots!
That night after church, I sifted through my doll clothes until I found the perfect dress. I presented it to my mother.
“It’s for the baby,” I said.
Taking the gift in her hands, she said, “The baby is too small for this now.” She curled her thumb and pointer finger together. “It would be just about the size of a grape right now, but it will keep growing and someday this dress will fit.”
The mystery of this little life growing from a grape to a doll dress wearing person with whom I could play and adventure piqued my curiosity.
On that spring day, clutching the carrot as I sat in my mother’s lap, I promised to protect this little life.
On July 26, 1983 my little brother entered the world and to my relief, he was healthy and strong.
In the grand tradition of little brothers with smothering big sisters, he did indeed wear the doll’s dress.
