2019 6th Annual Scholarship Winner

“Lily-Lolly, don’t yank-up the carpet like that,” I say, nodding towards my sister’s busy fingers. I glance at the door. When will they get here?

Lily stares at the little pile of fuzz sitting in front of her crossed legs and mumbles an apology. She starts fiddling with the “I’m 9!” sticker on her shirt. I can tell Lily is nervous. Lots of things make her nervous, and today the catalyst is her own birthday party.

I pull Lily onto my lap. Her tense body relaxes into the gentle tugs of my hands as I braid her hair. Time with my youngest sister is always a luxury, but a few months ago it wouldn’t have been a priority. That all changed during my high school volleyball season.

I watched my teammates bond with my four younger sisters. They asked Mikayla about her swim-meet after she cheered for us from the bleachers while wringing out her wet hair. To homecoming, they proudly wore friendship bracelets made by Audrey, with their high-heels. The girls on JV jumped me in their excitement to point out Katherine who was earnestly copying the referee’s every move while standing at the top of the bleachers. When shy little Lily headbutted the girls to catch their attention, they kneeled down and gave her a hug.

My teammates’ friendship with my siblings was a token of the inclusive and supportive mentality that we — the seniors — purposefully strived for during our last high school volleyball season as varsity athletes.

Thankfully, I was pushed to see the disparity between my relationship with my teammates and my relationship with my sisters. Just as my teammates helped me become a better volleyball player, they also showed me how to be a sister. I realized that a busy schedule and growing responsibilities does not have to mean leaving behind my family. Sometimes you choose to be a sister, and sometimes you have to learn how to be a better one.

As I finish braiding Lily-Lolly’s hair, the doorbell rings. She jumps a little and turns to me, looking like a deer-in-the-headlights.

“Don’t be nervous”, I say with a smile, “These are your friends.”

Lily nods with a resolute set to her chin and tramples on her little carpet-fuzz pile as she runs to open the door. There they are. My volleyball team — our sisters.

Lily shrieks with surprised delight as the girls sing “Happy Birthday” and shower her with tickles and homemade cards.

She turns back to where I stand, and her voice is breathy with wonder as she asks, “For me?”

I grin at Lilly-Lolly’s glowing face and my volleyball friends clustered around her, some kneeling or hunched down to be level with her face. I stand up and join the group.

“Yes. For you!”