My special sister

My special sister

My name is jeanne.

I have a little sister.

She is special.

She cannot hear the way we can.

However , this doesn’t stop her from doing what she wants to.

Although she will never be able to sing, she can play the piano.

She likes to feel the sound of music.

Besides playing the piano, she can also dance with a partner and march upright in a line.

She likes to hop, tumble, roll and even climb to the top of the monkey bars.

She watches me as we climb and I keep an eye on her too.

She cannot hear me shout “Look out!”

But she can see me swinging her way.

She laughs and in fun tries to catch my legs!

We often go to the woods behind our house.

Today , we are tracking deer.

I turn to speak to her.

I use no voice , just my fingers and my lips.

She understands and walks behind me , stepping where I step .

I am the one who listens for small sounds .

She is the one who watches for hoof marks and quick movements in the grass.

Although my sister has started going to school, our mother still helps her speak and lip read at home.

She can say words .

But they sound different .

When she says ‘ball’ it sounds like ‘baaaal’.

The teacher and the children at school do not understand every word she says.

However , I understand my sister and my sister understands me; especially if I speak slowly and move my hands a lot .

But sometimes we have our confusions too.

Last night , I asked ,“Where are my pyjamas?”

She went into the kitchen and bought out a bunch of bananas from the fruit bowl on the table!

My friends are curious about my little sister.

They ask ,“Does it hurt to be deaf?”

“No,” I say ,“Her ears don’t hurt , but her feelings do when people don’t understand.”

My sister will never know if the telephone is ringing or if someone is knocking at the door.

Even when a storm comes , my sister does not wake up to the sudden rolling thunder or to the quick clap-clap of the shutters in the wind .

She sleeps soundly.

I am the one who is afraid then.

She watches television without turning on the Sound .

She talks with her fingers or in a hoarse gentle voice.

But sometimes she yells so loud , our mother says the neighbours will complain.

I stamp my foot to get her attention, or wave at her across the room.

I come up beside her and put my hand on her arm.

She can feel the stamping.

She can feel the touching .

She can see my moving hand.

But , if i stand behind her and call out her name,

she cannot hear me.

My sister is special.

There are not many sisters like mine.

...

This story is copied from a book.

Over here written by - Pradnesh Amit Ghatol.