There’s this hymn we sing in church called, “Were You There?”.  As an adult it brings tears to my eyes.  As a child, well…you’ll see.

Grace has a middle son and if you valued your pride, you probably didn’t want to sit next to him in church, or you might pee on yourself from laughing so hard.

I don’t know where he came up with some of the stuff he said, but it was hilarious.  And for some reason, he was even funnier in church.  Maybe it’s because we were supposed to be praying and being very holy.

Topping his sense of humor is a very, very charming personality.  And at a very early age he had the presence of mind to be courteous and considerate toward females.  Not many men have this instinct.

As a result, plenty of girls had crushes on him.  And he showed care, concern, and consideration for all of them.

So, I have always thought of him as a real-life Prince Charming.  My favorite prince is Phillip from Sleeping Beauty.  He’s the only prince that actually has to save the princess.  (It’s so romantic!  Sigh…)

It wasn’t too long before Phillip started taking care of Wendy.  I think he was about 5 and she 4.

When we went on day trips and had to walk, he would carry her on his back when she got tired.  If she was thirsty, he got her a drink.  If she wanted to go down the slide, he would go down with her.  For protection.

Wendy might have been the first girl he paid particular attention to, but she wouldn’t be the last.  We are all enchanted by him.  We are all special to him.  We are all important in his eyes.

And, so, this is our Phillip.  Humor, charm, and chivalry all wrapped up one in one guy.

But beware of Sundays…

“Were you there when they nailed him to a tree?  Were you there when they nailed him to a tree?  Oh, oh, oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, (“What?”, says Phillip in your ear.), tremble, (“Excuse me?”, asks Phillip.), tremble.” (“Oh,” he finishes.  And now you have wet your pants because you are trying so hard not to laugh, but you can’t help it and there is your mother glaring at you from her seat in the choir.)

They are glorious creatures when treasured and treated correctly.  We are given the opportunity by God to create a bond that can be so formidable it carries us through pimples, first kisses, husbands, births, deaths, and laundry.

However, this bond does not need blood lines to exist…

Jo has a daughter.  All- American good looks.  Feisty.  Loyal.  Affectionate.

Oh, and opinionated.

Maria and I immediately claimed her as our friend and she did the same with us.  We were always together…talking, playing “college girls”, spying on our parents, talking, bossing the boys around, talking, performing dance recitals, and fort building.  And did I mention talking?

We solved so many problems when we were together…just talking.  We solved our parents’ problems, the boys’ immaturity issues, mean-teacher syndromes, bullies’ emotional repressions, and so on.  We voiced our solutions regularly.  I don’t know why no one ever listened to us.

Usually, creating a sisterly bond with someone who doesn’t live with you takes time.  This one did not.

No matter how long we are apart, when we see each other again, we pick up right where we left off.  Maria, Wendy, and I are blessed to have her.

She is a definite mix of contradictions.  She would play outside in her best dress, prance around like a princess and then climb trees in the blink of an eye.

She loved make-up.  And nail polish and jewelry.  She had boyfriends by the time she was in the fourth grade.  (And that was plural, by the way.)

She is wickedly smart, didn’t get grossed out when Jack split her finger in half, is not ashamed to show a little skin, and most of her favorite movies almost always have two guys fighting over one girl.

There is so much more to say, but instead of telling you, I will hopefully show you.  Until then, here is a little dialogue for you:

“Let’s play college girls,” I say.  “I’ll be Victoria!”

“I’ll be Maria!” my sister declares.

“I’ll be Hot Lips,” says our new sister.  “No, just Hot.”  A thoughtful look crosses her face.  “No, just Lips.”  More thinking.  “No, Hot Lips.”

(She only used this name once.  So, I’ll be nice and not change her name to Hot Lips.)

Usually, she was…Roxi.