Love

(Written by a teenager)
Love. The most frequently used word in the English language. I wonder why it is used so often when there seems to be so very little of it left in the world. Maybe someday like me, you’ll learn the real meaning of it.

I suppose the whole story started the day my sister was born. From the moment she was carried into the house, my life has been one big contest.

You see, I was five when she was born and had always been the center of attention. Everybody spoiled me with candy and toys. It was always, "How's my little Leslie? I have a big surprise for you!” After that they'd take me to the circus and buy me everything in sight. So you can see that for someone else to just come along and steal the spotlight was a terrible blow.

Yes, the second she entered that house I was thrown aside, while she was smothered with "ooo's" and "aaa's" It's understandable though. She was a beautiful baby. Visiting relatives would lean over her crib and she'd smile, gurgle, and kick her chubby legs at them.

I remember once when I was rocking her to sleep in her cradle I gave it one mighty shove and she came tumbling out. She wasn't hurt, but I was punished.

As Julie grew up matters got worse. She had this terrible habit of following me around wherever I went. It was always "Can I come with you. Leslie?"

"No! So will you layoff, you little brat! Beat it.” She'd always start to cry. Then my mother would come running and I'd get in trouble. The same thing all the time. Wherever I went, Julie went. All her little hints of love and affection just made me hate her more.

Once I tried to tell my mother how I felt about Julie. I guess my wording wasn't right. "Mom, I hate Julie ... " but before I could finish my sentence I got a Slap on the mouth and an angry answer.

"Why Leslie, how dare you say such a thing about your sister who loves you! You go to your room this minute!"

Well that's how things were in our household. That is, until two weeks ago. It was just a regular Saturday. I was bored to death and awfully cranky. My homework wasn't done, but I was in no mood to it. After lunch my mother asked me to mail a letter for her. The mailbox was just two blocks away and I had nothing to do, so I agreed. I was about to leave when Julie, as usual, asked if she could go.

I was too tired to argue so I said okay.

As we were walking I began to feel better. It was a beautiful day. The air was cool, and the wind slapped my face until it really woke me up.

Before I knew it, we were almost to the mailbox. Julie, who was getting bored because I hadn't spoken a word the whole way, suddenly grabbed the letter and yelled, "Race you to the mailbox!” She darted out into the street, heading for the box on, the other side. She never made it.

It all happened so quickly that I didn’t even have time to call out. A car suddenly swerved around the corner, heading right for Julie. I opened my mouth to scream but nothing came out. The next thing I knew she was on the ground.

Everything after that was just a blurry nightmare. I guess the man who hit her called an ambulance. I think I just froze in my place with my mouth open, waiting to scream.

I suppose most people would have cried or gone hysterical, but I didn't. I didn't feel a thing. Just empty, as if someone had cut a big hole in me. Empty. That's all
Finally, somehow, they got her to the hospital ... I was in the waiting room with my parents. After what seemed like a century, the doctor came out. One look at his face, and I knew.

My parents rose as he walked toward us. They probably knew too, but you could still see a tiny glimmer of hope in their eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said, looking down at his hands. "I don't think she'll make it; she's got one in a million chance."

Then I felt it. That thing called love. It came in a rush from way down deep, after being hidden all these years. Hard to believe, isn't it? I loved my sister and didn't know it for ten years.

That night I asked to see her. Of course, at first, they said no; but finally I was allowed a short visit.

I tiptoed into her room hoping she wouldn’t be asleep. She wasn't. She was lying very still, staring at the ceiling. When she heard me come in, she turned and smiled weakly. Oh, she was so pale.

"Hi Julie."

"Hi."

I sat down by her bed and held her hand tightly.

"Leslie. "

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something?”
"Sure”.

"Leslie, why did you come to see me?"

With tears streaming down my face I answered, "Because I love you, Julie.” For the first time in her life she looked really happy. I mean really happy!

I leaned over and kissed her gently on ,the cheek.

"I love you too, Leslie."

With a smile on her face she died. LOVE. You never know you have it until you lose it!

My dad had used this story in a talk he had given and it really touched me. I will never forget it. Recently I asked him to email it to me, because I have to give a talk, and so I thought I would share the story with you.

There's not much else I can add to this story, it was said so well. It just made me realize how much love I have in my life, and that so much of it, I take for granted. I think if we thought of every moment that we get with the ones we love, as if it was our last, our hearts would be forever filled with love and compassion for those in our lives.