The Greatest Gift
When I was a child I was shocked at the idea that my sisters could be my best friends.  Now，I wouldn't have it any other way.
        I'm five years old, and my mother is on her hands and knees，  washing the kitchen floor. I'm telling her about a new girl in school,  and she suddenly looks up at me and says, "Who are your two best friends?"
        l'm not sure what to say, I've been friends with Jill since I was three or so, and I really like Jaime, a friend in kindergarten.
        "Jill and Jaime."
        My mother stops scrubbing the foor and starts to take off her yellow rubber glovers."Well what about Karen and Cindy?"
        My sisters? "I don't know who their best friends are," l say.
        "No," she says. "l'm saying, why aren't they your best friends?"
        She seems upset, as though I have hurt  her feelings. "But they're my sisters."
        "Yes, but they can still be your best friends.  Friends may come and go, but your sisters will  always be there for you."
          At the time, the idea of my two sisters being my closest friends seemed strange to me.  We used to fight all the time  over toys, food, attention, what to watch on television - you name it , we bickered about it at  some point.How could my sisters be my best friends?  We  weren't  the  same age.  We all had our own friends in school.
        But my mother never let the three of us forget it: sisters are lifelong friends.  Her wish - like most parents' --was to  give us something that she had never had.  Growing up as an only child, she longed,  for siblings.  When she gave birth to three daughters --separated by only four years -- the fulfillment of her dream had only just begun.  She had given us  each a gift - our sisters -- and she wanted to make sure we did not take that gift for granted.  She would frequently tell us how lucky we were.  But there were  other more subtle ways that she encouraged us  to grow closer. She never showed favoritism  to one daughter over the other, so as not to cause  jealousy or bitterness between us.  She constantly took us places together -- skating, shopping,swimming - so we developed common interests. And when we were teenagers, Mom always punished us equally, giving us yet another bonding experience.
        We didn't always get along beautifully and fought just like any other siblings. But somewhere in between Mom's lectures,  the family vacations and the shared memories,  we realized that our mother was right.  Today I share things with my sisters that I share with no one else. My sister Cindy and I ran the New York City Marathon together, side by side,  even holding hands when we crossed the finishing line.  When my sister Karen got married, I was her maid of honor. Cindy and I traveled through Europe together and even shared an apartment for two years.  The three of us trust each other with our greatest secrets.
        lt was twenty-three years ago that my mother first asked me who my two best friends were. Today she doesn't have to. She already knows.