Herbert W Armstrong

When I received the small, brown package in the mail, I wasn't overly excited about it because I knew by the return address that it was from my younger sister. I figured that it would probably be broken chocolate chip cookies (something that I really didn't need!). A few hours later, when I finally got back to my dorm, I peeled the brown tape off the outside of the box. I stuck my hand inside the package, but what I grabbed wasn't a cookie. It was soft and furry. As I looked at it, memories of long ago filled my mind. I was 3 years old when my little sister was born. Even though I was small, I still remember the jealousy I felt because suddenly my mother and father were spending all of their time with her. It seemed as if the attention I'd always received had come to a halt. I was now an "older sister."

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