Maggie Rose
by Olivia Ursu
“I love you sixteen- five-twenty,” my four year old sister Maggie chirps as I walk in the door every afternoon. After a long day of high school, this is exactly what I need to hear. The soft pitter-patter of her quick footsteps tells me that she will prance, smiling, around the corner sometime within the next 5 seconds. Each day, I find her dressed in a different costume. One day it might be an old tutu of mine, the next it might be an Easter dress from two years ago, the hem of which comes to her knees. Occasionally I will find her wearing what appears to be every article of clothing that she owns; but no matter what outfit she’s chosen, she is the most beautiful person I know.
Maggie has straight blonde hair that falls to her shoulders. Her pale, soft skin is flawless, and freckles dot her tiny nose. Her big brown eyes sparkle under stunningly long eyelashes. Every tear that falls from those eyes breaks my heart. Nothing makes me feel worse than Maggie’s big sad baby tears. On the bright side, the tears she sheds are few and far between as she is generally a happy person.
From her made-up words like “brush-teeth (tooth brush), jamajis (pajamas), and bresket (breakfast)” to her wonderful knock-down hugs, Maggie brightens my every day. She will be the first to tell you that her boyfriend is Troy Bolton from the High School Musical movies and that she loves life because “God made me like that.” I couldn’t imagine life without her and I’m so blessed to have such a joyful person in my life.
Ya that’s Maggie. I still laugh at how she says Luke Spider instead of Luke Speicher.
She is quite simply the best person ever.
Thanks for enlightening my day.