My sister is one of the kindest people I know. Her selflessness is really my favorite thing about her. I can remember several instances when she gave up something that mattered to her for someone else.
One of the most impactful times I can remember was when she was maybe five years old. She, our babysitter, and I were at Toys R Us, and we were looking at all the toys. I grabbed a pony doll I liked, and she had grabbed a baby doll. She grabbed the last baby doll of the brand Corolle. We continued to walk through the store just for the fun of looking at all the toys when another little girl who may have been about 4 years old, not far off from my sister’s age, was walking by. Her mom and her stopped at the shelf of all the baby dolls. The little girl seemed upset and even began to cry.
Her mom, in an attempt to comfort the girl, crouched down and tried talking and hugging her little girl. The girl remained visibly upset. The mom even tried to convince the little girl to get a different baby doll, but the little girl was not having it and continued to sob. At this point the whole store could likely hear her. My sister turned to my babysitter and asked why the little girl was crying. My babysitter explained, “It seems to me that she was hoping for one of the baby dolls on the shelf, but did not find it there.” My sister looked down at her baby doll and looked back up at the little girl crying in front of the shelf of baby dolls.
My sister strode over to the little girl and her mother, our babysitter, and I followed behind. “Excuse me?” my sister inquired. The woman looked up, but the little girl continued to sob. “I got this baby doll here. I’m not sure if it’s what you are looking for, but I can just get a different one,” my sister proclaimed.
“Why thank you! Look Lizzy, this nice young girl wanted to give you the Corolle doll.” The little girl’s head popped up. She stopped crying and snatched the doll. She caressed the box, admiring it. The girl’s face was all red and puffy. “What do you say?” the mom asked her daughter. “Thank you…” the daughter murmured sheepishly. My sister picked out another doll. The other doll looked quite different, but my sister was content. We walked over to the register to pay for our toys.
“That was a very kind thing you did,” I commented. “Well the little girl seemed sad. I did not need the doll and there are always other dolls,” my sister said. “I guess I just thought it’d be nice if she was happy.”