Lizzie

Tears drop down my face as my sister’s coffin is lowered into the ground, but they aren’t tears of sadness. They are tears of pride, a symbol of how lucky I am to have had the chance to know her. Elisabeth Leanne Pearman was eight years old, born on September 23, 1999; she died on September 24, 2007. It was amazing really, that she lived to see her eighth birthday.

Though Lizzie looked up to me it was I who learnt from her. Being seven years older than her I had forgotten what it was truly like to see the world from a child’s point of view. I cherish all of the things I’ve learnt from her, but what I cherish most are the memories I have of her. I remember when Lizzie was two, we were both in the back yard playing, I was on the swing set and Lizzie was running around the yard playing with Rosco, our golden retriever. Our mom had just went inside to finish the dishes when Lizzie came up to me crying. Her right hand was balled into a fist so hard her knuckles were white and I noticed a buzzing sound coming from inside her fist. My eyes got big and I grabbed Lizzie’s hand.

“Open Lizzie. It wont hurt you baby, open your fist.” Lizzie slowly opened her hand and the bee flew out, landing on my left wrist. My mom told me I should be proud of myself because I had saved Lizzie’s life, I took the sting with honor.

You’re asking how I saved her life; it was just a little bee sting. Lizzie was deathly allergic to almost everything, especially bees. During the last five years of Lizzie’s life I took honor in being her big sister. I protected her from everything possible, until she was seven. When she was seven we were told she had a brain tumor, but through testing, we were also told it wasn’t just a tumor; it was cancer. Because of Lizzie being allergic to a lot and because of the fact that she had a low immune system they weren’t able to give her chemo. We knew she was going to die; they gave her a little under 4 months to live. We didn’t tell Lizzie, but somehow she knew and she was determined to make it to her eighth birthday.

Though Lizzie should have been afraid of everything that threatened her; she wasn’t. She embraced everything around her and she always had a smile on her face. Her outlook on life really made me stop and think about why we are here. What is our purpose in life? Does everyone have a different purpose?