Miracles
My mother and my father shared happy looks, nodding enthusiastically.
“We know that it may be hard for you,” my mom began, smiling nervously at me, eager for my approval, “but we hope that you’ll be ok with it. You’re a good girl, we know.”
It was a question, I knew, one to see how I felt, and I couldn’t crush the happy glow in my mom.
I knew that at one point my mom had wanted a huge family. They thought that maybe that wouldn’t happen, when they tried for a while to have a baby without sucess.
I had been their miracle. Now, it seemed, they had another, and I couldn’t ruin that.
I wasn’t sure how I felt about being a big sister at this age (and with my mother’s age!), but I smiled back.
“That’s great, Mom. That’s really great.”
My parents looked relieved for a moment, and then simply smiled goofy smiles at each other and me.
“So, um, why don’t we eat?”