From Envy to Empathy: A Tale of two sisters

When I was young, I didn’t like my sister very much. She was pretty, with bright eyes and a sweet face. We lived in a town where it was always hot—an endless summer. Like most kids there, my skin was dark brown from the sun. My sister was two years younger than me, but sometimes, we lived in different worlds.
She was special because she was the first girl baby in our family in many years. Everyone treated her like a goddess. If she did something wrong, nobody yelled at her. But I’d get in big trouble if I made even a tiny mistake.
When relatives visited, they would give my sister lots of gifts and attention. It seemed like they barely noticed me, which made me very jealous and sad. To me, she was like a proud peacock, always showing off. Though we didn’t fight out loud, my heart hurt. My grandmother served as a ‘fortress’ for her. She watched over her like a hawk, always protecting her. At least I had my mom, who always loved and cared for me.
I was better at school than my sister and used this to feel better. When she needed help with homework, I wouldn’t help her. She didn’t seem to care — she was too busy enjoying all the attention she got.
But something changed when my sister got married and left home. I felt surprisingly sad watching her go. It was a very emotional goodbye that I’ll never forget. As the years passed, we grew closer. We started sharing our problems and helping each other. She would say, “When you need to cry, I’m here for you, and when I need someone to listen, you’re there for me.” Our relationship evolved from one of jealousy and resentment to one of mutual support and understanding. We talk on the phone daily, sharing our joys and sorrows like best friends.
The other day in 2024, I heard a similar story from little Vara, who’s six years old. She told me she was jealous of her two-year-old sister, Laya. Vara had to wake up early for school, but Laya could sleep as long as she wanted. Nobody made Laya wear a school uniform or pack a school bag. She could play with her dolls all day and do whatever she wanted.
Poor Vara complained that her dad had to rush her to the car every morning for school. When she came home, everyone made her change her clothes immediately and do her homework. Three people would watch to make sure she finished it. Meanwhile, Laya could play and have fun. Vara said she loves her little sister but feels jealous of her freedom.
Hearing Vara’s story brought back memories of my childhood. It’s intriguing how some things never change — siblings still experience similar emotions, regardless of the era. But I’ve come to understand that these feelings of jealousy often evolve into love and friendship as we mature. Just as my sister and I became best friends, I’m confident that Vara and Laya will, too.