Meghan's graduation was so perfect. Nearly one hundred children participated in the program, and year after year I am amazed by what these amazing teachers are able to accomplish with them. They stood when cued, they sat when told and they sang from their toes. Then there was a slide show featuring every child at least once, accompanied by the kind of country music that makes you cry from the first instrumental note. It was a beautiful night.

Meghan was nervous beyond belief, complaining of "nervous belly" (our term for butterflies in the stomach)before we even left for school. So it was not surprising when she came out with her class to the bleachers and immediately started to cry. Her teacher carried her off the stage to sit in the front pew while the rest of the children filed in to their spots. Having seen this kind of stage fright from my oldest daughter many moons ago, and having suffered terribly from it myself, I knew the best thing to do was to just let her teachers handle it. I had my heart in my throat and wanted to go to her, hug her, tell her it was okay and that she didn't have to do it...but I knew that would never help her get over her nervous belly. So I stood and had faith that she'd get up there and sing when she could.

What I never expected was to look over at Erin, who looked like a teenager last night in comparison to the preschool kids, and find that she was silently crying with her hands over her mouth because her sister was upset up front and she wanted to help her. I've worried about Erin's ability to be compassionate and empathetic toward her sisters. She has often been jealous, callous, spiteful and mean. She never likes to have the spotlight taken from her, especially by one of her sisters. But last night, she was genuinely excited for Meghan. They got dressed together, made themselves look beautiful...and Erin held her hand, walked her to her classroom before the program and gave her a kiss. I was amazed.

But even with all of those kind gestures, I never expected to see such real emotion come from her. I could see the energy that connects the two of them across that church sanctuary and realized that they do have what I have never had...the true love of sisterhood. With all the refereeing and interference that I've run trying to diffuse the bombs of sibling rivalry in this house, it's plain to understand why I've worried that they'll never be close. That the jealousy and competition will always trump genetics and I'll be watching the rift between them grow for years to come.

But once again...I was wrong. Their bond is so true and real you can see it connecting them across the room, and I think once it's there, it's probably there to stay.

So it is with great pleasure I announce that my second daughter will be attending elementary school in the fall with her very proud big sister. And while I know the years of bickering and sparring are far from over, I also know that they will always be sisters and best friends, even when I'm not there looking on and playing referee. And that will probably be one of the greatest sources of pride and joy I'll ever know in my life.