I’d been looking forward to visiting my sister for weeks, but when I walked through her door, I could feel the heaviness in the air. Her eyes were red, her shoulders slumped, like the weight of the world had settled on her. She didn’t say much at first, just a quiet “Hey” as she tried to muster a smile. But I could tell—she was sad, the kind of sad that sits deep and makes everything feel a little darker. Without a second thought, I wrapped her in a big hug, holding her tight like I used to when we were kids. She leaned into it, her breath shaky, and for a moment, we just stood there, letting the silence carry what words couldn’t.

I knew a hug wouldn’t fix everything. It’s not some magic eraser for life’s problems. But there’s something about that warmth, that steady presence, that makes you feel like you’re not facing the storm alone. I could feel her relax a little, like the hug was reminding her she was stronger than she felt in that moment.

As her older sister, I wanted to do more, to lift her up the way I always tried to when we were growing up. So, I grabbed her hand and said, “Come on, let’s get out of here.” We headed to our favorite ice cream shop, the one we used to beg Mom to take us to. I got her to laugh when I ordered her favorite—mint chocolate chip with extra sprinkles—and teased her about how she used to eat it so fast she’d get brain freeze every time. We sat by the window, sharing scoops and stories, and I could see her start to loosen up, the sadness easing just a bit.

After, we walked to the park nearby, the one with the big oak trees and the winding path by the lake. The air was crisp, the leaves crunching under our feet, and we talked about everything and nothing—work, life, the silly stuff we used to fight over as kids. I didn’t push her to spill what was wrong; I just let her be, let her feel safe.

Every now and then, I’d give her another quick hug as we walked, just a little squeeze to remind her I was there. I told her, “You know, a hug doesn’t make the problems disappear. They’re still there, waiting. But it’s like… it gives you a shield, you know? Makes you feel a little stronger to face them.” She nodded, her eyes softer now, and I could tell she got it. We kept walking, the sun dipping low, casting golden light through the trees. By the time we headed back, she wasn’t fixed—not completely—but she was steadier, like she’d found a piece of herself again.

That day, I saw it clear as ever: a hug doesn’t erase the hurt, but it’s a spark of strength, a reminder you’re not alone. And as her big sister, I’ll always be there to give her that, to walk with her, to share ice cream and park trails, until she’s ready to face the world again.

Based on that experience, you can listen to this song that I got from Artificial Intelligence:

Touch of Growth

Verse 1

Woke up this morning, heart a little gray,

Pre-Chorus

It’s more than just a touch, it’s a bridge to the soul,

Chorus

Daily hugs, they lift you high,

Verse 2

In a world of screens, we’re drifting apart,

Pre-Chorus

It’s a language soft, no words to say,

Chorus

Daily hugs, they lift you high,

Bridge

Science says it, and we feel it too,

Chorus

Daily hugs, they lift you high,

(Softly)

Daily hugs… oh, daily hugs…

🎶 🎼 ♬ 🎼

This was a sunday post.

Thanks for stopping by to read for a while, Blurt friends.

Have a great day and may God bless you greatly.

Regards, comrades blurtarians!!