Puzzle pieces...

I don't think she will ever understand the extent of my love or my unbelievable willingness towards her. Now I sound like I am bragging, sorry. I wish so many things for her ever since she was small. Even when she wasn't diagnosed with autism. But this isn't about my extensive compassion and it isn't about me what so ever. It is her story. Ours lives as sisters is so close that this story is about the both of us. I know I am young and that I have not experienced enough to give you an extravagant adventure story but I cant tell, no wrong word, show you how it is.
Almost born in a hallway a week or so late, in the early morning (3:00 am to be precise) is a little baby girl. Grace Carol Desmarais. There isn't much I can tell you about myself at the time, aside from my first few words were: "I have a book." And that I wasn't a baby to cry or whine extensively, but everyone has there moments.
I wasn't born in the town I live in now, I was born in Greenwich. I moved here when I was two or three. This was a larger house, my room was up stairs across the hall from my parents. I was a night owl and still am. Thats one of the things my parents could have done without, but never the less here I am. When I was three years old my younger sister, Marian was born.

She was almost healthy...