15. Ginny E

Last night I was walking back to the living room after putting Jonathan to bed when I heard the cluster of friends gathered there listening as Josh said,

"She just prays like she's talking to Him, it's the coolest thing."

I knew then that he was talking about my little sister because I've heard Josh admire this about her more than once before. Our friends asked what he meant, and I expounded. I explained that Ginny doesn't talk to God like a distant deity but rather as a close friend whom she sees everyday. When listening to her pray you don't know whether to chuckle at her familiar tone or turn away from the intimacy of their conversation. You never can turn away, though, for the urge to listen and learn from this friendship is too great.

Ginny's genuine approach to God is much like her approach to people. She sees people uniquely, finding our their qualities through the scrutinous observation of a writer. When you read her blog you will find it full of interesting characters that make you guffaw with laughter or sigh with sweet appreciation. Ginny's close perception of human hearts has left her with a bevy of friends that range from age eighty something to two. It still astounds me that the English teacher at the high school we attended, the one who shared nothing of her personal life with her students and whom we never saw about town, invited Ginny to travel with her to Ireland when Ginny was in college. That teacher saw what the rest of us were inexplicably drawn to: her genuine passion and vitality for life and the people that color it.

Ginny has hair the color of newly harvested straw and it is curly and bouncy and basically irresistible. She has bright blue eyes and rose colored lips and little tiny freckles that dot her nose. When were were toddlers people would come up to my mom and unabashedly ask to take home some of her curls (Mom refused); they would squeeze her cheeks and basically treat her like a puppy. I was always impressed that she handled it so well; I would have hidden behind mom's legs.

I'm sure I don't need to mention the boys that came calling; her sunshine pretty features were the opening act to her life's adventure that everyone wanted to be a part of. Through our school years, then college, and finally into the precipice that is our twenties, Ginny has continued to have a flock of friends around her. For a long time I thought it was her pretty face, bubbly personality, and appreciation of Jim Carrey films (and subsequent ability to quote them flawlessly). Now I am finally understanding that this all flows from her genuineness. Ginny is real, she is honest and thorough in her affection. She is as authentic as a rocking chair moved by the wind on a brick front porch. Anyone who passes by cannot help but take a seat, unload their burdens, and enjoy the happy sing-song of the summer.