I have a beautiful little sister named Natalie.  Natalie is nine years old.

When I was little - right after I turned four, which was when I was blessed with a second baby brother - I remember praying every night from that time on, for a little sister.  "Dear God, thank you for Mommy, and Daddy, and Cooper, and Wesley, and help me to get a baby sister."  I prayed for a little sister, as I said, every single night.  Then, when Mom got pregnant with Natalie, I told her that if the baby wasn't a little sister, then I was moving out.  And I still prayed that the baby would be a sister.

When we were discussing names for a possible little girl, I even helped name her.  I wanted a sister that I could call "Nae-Nae," which was what I called a friend named Renee.  So, we named the baby Natalie Renee, so that I could call her Nae-Nae.

When she was born, we found out that she had Moebius Syndrome.  We had never heard of Moebius Syndrome, as not many people have.  It is a very rare congenital disorder (as in, 20 max cases per million births), also known as an orphan disorder, that occurs because the sixth and seventh cranial nerves didn't connect during embryo.  It is characterized mainly by a partial facial paralysis, which makes it difficult or impossible to do much with your face.  When Natalie was born, the doctors told my parents that she would not be able to eat, talk, laugh, blink, smile, or show any kind of emotion whatsoever.

Natalie was also born with crossed eyes.  She really only has one eye that functions, because she does not use the other.  How does someone not use an eye?  Well, Natalie cannot blink, and her eyelids cannot move on their own.  So she holds one eye open when she needs to see well (p.s., if Natalie ever challenges you to a staring contest - which she absolutely will - be warned that there is no way you can possibly win).

She has very poor balance, so when she walks, she kind of tilts when she moves her legs.

Despite all of this, Natalie is one of the most wonderful people I know.  She can do almost everything that the doctors had predicted that she would never be able to do - and she doesn't realize that she is different.  She loves who she is, and she loves her life.  She has overcome so many unfair advantages that she didn't know she didn't have.  Natalie lives a life devoid of care.  She hasn't allowed her physical disabilities to rule her life.  Many times, I often forget that she is even disabled.

I think that when people see Natalie, she sort of makes them forget that she is different.  We were at the park the other day, and a little girl walked up to Natalie and commented about her face.  Natalie truly didn't know what the little girl was talking about, so she ignored it.  After a few minutes, the two girls were playing Hide and Seek like they had always been friends.  No more was said about the way that Natalie looked. 
This is only one of the many times I have witnessed Natalie drawing people away from her face with her bubbly personality.  I believe that my sister is a rare little girl - she is definitely the sweetest little girl I know, and I pray that this sweetness continues with her through adulthood.

Natalie is the answer to a little girl's fervent prayers.  I cannot express my love for my little sister; nor can I express the gratitude that I feel every night when I think about her.  God works in strange and wonderful ways - Natalie is living, breathing proof of that.  There is not one thing that I would change about my little sister, even if I had the chance.  Natalie is wonderful just the way she is, and I will always count her among my role models.  I hope that one day, I can live with a love for life equivalent to that of my little sister's.