A Modern Day Story Of Little Women

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Families are as varied as the individuals who comprise them. Some are full of brothers, who seem to bring a natural balance to the family dynamic with their sports talk, outside adventures, and other exciting escapades. I’ve also heard about families where parents and daughters are the best of friends, or families where the siblings are virtually inseparable.

My own family looked nothing like that.

But I do know about little women who love fiercely, and while they may misunderstand each other at times, they still believe in one another fully. We are born of the same dust, and we have survived together. So let me tell you about a family -- my family -- and the little women who come from a land of towering evergreens, crisp air, and misty skies.

There are five of us. Yes, five girls: Julie, Andrea, Sarah, Gina, and myself. We're all so intensely different from one another that, even if you tried to judge us by our features alone, it would be quite difficult to tell we’re related.

My sisters and I range from the intellectual, the nurturing, the daring, the wanderer, the hopeful, the broken, and everything in between. Sarah likes to say we possess magical powers, but I like to think there’s a spark of the Divine that somehow found its way into our bones, equipping us for Life's journey. Still, our love for one another hasn't come easy. It's been forged from the fires of abuse, abandonment, fear, hope, loss, and all the chaos left behind.

5 girls and their Mama! Amazing to think the story leads back to the beautiful petite brunette in the purple!

Julie is our trailblazer, and she has always carried the weight of responsibility. She has always carried a vibrant, mischievous glint in her eye, as if she has a secret no one else knows. Jules and I are ten years and ten days apart, and as a little girl, I followed her every move. If she was going to watch Young & The Restless and Oprah every afternoon after school, so was I. She may remember me as the little sister who spied on her, but I remember watching and hoping to be just like her. Julie has taught the four of us how to color outside the lines, and has inspired us to dream and believe that from the ashes, beauty can arise.

Andrea Marie is our fire -- headstrong, but with a gentle spirit. She is always the first to dive in, to go too fast, or to push boundaries beyond their limits. A wildness exists in her that I have always longed for. Growing up, she was always quick to ask, “What’s next?” When I was eight and Annie was four, we went to a Bob Dole presidential campaign rally. I remember my parents acting as if we were entering sacred territory, dressing us in our very best. Shortly after arriving, I looked around for Annie and saw her twirling behind two men dressed in suits. She stopped and asked, “What the hell is going on here?” as a local camera crew filmed her (much to the dismay of our parents). She has always been wild, but in the way you wish that same boldness existed within yourself.

Fourth in line is sweet Sarah. Sarah seems to hold the wisdom of the ages in her eyes --- vivid and green, as if after a storm -- eyes that seem too smart for any of us. It's as if she knew this story before it happened. Where Andrea is bold, Sarah is cautious, mindful of every movement. The pair of them were born only fourteen months apart, and were the most beautiful little darlings with sun-kissed hair and fringes of fire-orange ringlets. Sarah was always one step behind during our adventures, absorbing every detail around her. While some may have called her a daydreamer, I think she saw the world as it was, but was simply searching for ways to escape it. Sarah possesses the insight and fortitude of an evergreen, combined with the heart of an artist. She is a healer, and the atmosphere seems to change when she walks into a room. She is filled with big questions and challenges others to go beyond what’s comfortable. Sarah is in tune with the sound of her own internal drum, which leads her to places few ever dare to venture. Her very presence calls you to deeper truth, to the pursuit of wholeness.

Now, let me tell you about our Gina. She and I are seven years apart, but we have been told the moons on our respective birthdays are two halves that create a whole. The day she came into the world, I sat in the hallway of the hospital in an uncomfortable chair next to my Aunt Judith, just around the corner from my mother's room. Even though I wasn't close enough to hear anything that was going on, I felt the moment of Gina's arrival. It was as if the earth shifted beneath me, just gently enough to make sure I noticed it; my soul recognizing her presence. She was born with Down Syndrome, and with a hole in her heart the size of your thumb. After enduring two open heart surgeries in only ten days, Gina fought with everything she had to be part of the story, our story.

The first time I saw her, her small frame was encased in plastic, hooked up to all sorts of horrible tubes meant to keep her alive and protected from the germs of the outside world. In an instant, I knew our family had been given a piece of heaven. In nearly every photo of us together, I am either holding her, or she is extending her hand out in search of me. Gina has taught me about love, the kind of love that pulls heaven down to earth. It’s the kind of love that expects nothing in return, only to simply acknowledge its presence. The little women of our family could not be more celebrated, honored, thought of, or loved than we are by Gina. To this day, I don’t know how I would’ve ever learned to love had it not been for her showing me the way.

My sisters and I are living proof that despite having every justifiable reason to let go of one another, we hold fast, regardless of the circumstances. It was a lesson we learned early on -- we are stronger together than apart. These women represent so many of us, and they have expanded my capacity to love and to forgive. Just as our tapestry is uniquely our own, yours has rich colors, tailored details, and an incredible narrative that only belongs to you. I wonder, who might your Sarah and Julie be? For me, my sisters exemplify the beautiful spectrum of God’s artistry, demonstrating how much we’re truly loved that He would create us so wonderfully different.

I wanted you to know about my sisters because our story is about more than a few girls who grew to become women. Our reality did not include the comfort of a steadfast household, or the experience of a father’s unconditional love. In spite of this, we’ve learned how to pursue adventure and each other when the rest of the world seems hollow or unsteady. It’s an ongoing learning trek we find ourselves on, but one we’re all committed to in our own ways.

Most importantly, we've learned we are a sisterhood of warriors.

And we've been slaying dragons since the beginning.

Suzanna HendricksDecember 4, 2016