You’re the Sister I Never Had

Assad and Amaan are now my honorary brothers. One is from Ethiopia and the other from Somalia, and they both work in the Dallas airport. They’ve been in the US for about 5 years and they are both cheerful, hardworking men. I call them my new brothers because they called me “my sister!”

“Step up here, my sister,” Assad said as he helped me into the cart to transport me to my gate. Then, when he transferred me to Amaan for the second leg of my hurry-flurry through the airport, Amaan said, “hello, my sister. I will get you to your gate. You not worry.”

how-very-alike-we-all-are

I loved the way they treated me; it felt like family. They helped me like they would help their own mother. They were protective and as kind to me as they would be to their own sisters.

Why don’t we talk like that to each other?  Why don’t we act like that to each other?