Turning back, I saw my sister’s little body rushing past the security guards all the way towards me.
When she run up to me, what she heard was my sneer: “Pen-box are not allowed. I’ve picked out the pens.”
Then she answered breathlessly: “Oh!” daring not to look into my eyes.
Seeing my sister walk out with a disappointing back, I suddenly realized that she was always waiting for an opportunity to do something for me.
Later, when I went to university in Beijing, I tasted the ache of loneliness. Furthermore, two shocks in quick succession allowed me to learn that my sister’s really means a great deal to me.
The first thing was that, as Mother told me, after my leaving, my sister insisted on not moving any of my things. She even put my towel besides hers. She said, whenever she entered the bathroom, that would remind her of my smiles, my jokes, my being a patient listener.
Then came the second shock: I could not remember when I gave her a smile, when I ever told her jokes. As for “a patient listener”, all that came to my mind was that my sister kept telling some trivial incidents in her school day, but I put none of them into my heart, only minding my own business. Yet as long as I felt sad, it was my sister who would sit by my side, watching over me.
This summer, my father rented a house by the Nanli Lake and took us all there for several weeks. This time, it was me who was expected to catch the opportunity to push our relationship further, and to let her know how I really felt.
The first morning, we went fishing. We stared silently at the tips of our rods, at the dragonflies that came and went. I lowered the tip of mine into water, tentatively, dislodging the dragonfly. I looked at my sister, who was silently imitating me, and yet there was even no dragonfly on her rod! Then I intentionally let her hold my rod, her eyes watching. For a while, I could experience her state of mind---she was pleasantly surprised by my behavior showing acceptance.
