Memory

I remember the party my parents have thrown for my sister after she was born. 

There was so much light and presents and people coming over to wish her the best. It is a tradition for relatives and friends to come over and wish the newborn baby from all of their hearts whatever they feel like wishing.

My aunts, all of them went into the garden and picked up roses and then the ceremony began. It felt like a ritual, like magic flew all around us as the joy of my sister's birth descended upon us.

I remember my little sister in her basin, rose petals all around her and people laughing and looking at her and eating good food. 

I remember how I looked in fascination as water washed over her and those beautiful rose petals touched her tiny little body, her squeals of displeasure and her tiny little hands. 

I remember I realized I loved her before I knew her. I remember her eyes staring straight at me like she could see right through me with the wisdom only newborns carry in their eyes. 

I remember holding her, wet as she was and being scared that such a fragile, wondrous being was being in my arms. 

I remember her touching her tiny fingers to my face and how I felt love flow in waves, like a current connecting us forever and for always. The words seemed to dissapear in silence around me and I felt safe, protected because she was safe, protected in my arms.