My mom always did Christmas in an untraditional way.
Growing up, she had my twin sister Anna and I follow a custom where only three presents under the tree were from Santa and the rest were from Mom and Dad. It was an interesting way to teach us the power of gratitude, but explaining it to my friends growing up was always awkward.
I would ask my mom why we were the only family following the rule and her response was always, “Santa gives different rule books to every family.” The three-gift rule meant my sister and I had to ration our Santa gifts every year to the three we wanted the most because even as elementary schoolers we didn’t want to empty our parents’ wallets with extravagant gifts.
Until we were 10 years old, my sister had an affinity for American Girl Dolls and a seemingly infinite list of dolls they wanted to add to their collection. To ensure they got variety in their gifts from Santa, my sister planned out which dolls they would ask for for the next five Christmases until they’d finally be satisfied with their collection.
I was always desperate for my sister and I to have a close relationship since we were born. When we were babies, I was notorious for never falling asleep until I was wrapped in a blanket that smelled like them.
All I wanted growing up was to have a connection with my sister like I saw in the movies. I wanted to play dress up with them and watch cartoons about fairies and princesses. I never tried to be the brother who barged into their room to pelt them with footballs or to make cheap jokes like, “You throw like a girl.”
I always admired the way Anna delicately placed worms back in the damp soil when they got caught in the sun after a rainstorm. I loved the way they tenderly removed spiders from the house using a piece of paper and a plastic cup, despite both of our childish fears of insects.
Our relationship was tumultuous when we were kids, mostly because of unaddressed adverse emotions stemming from our parents’ divorce. But despite our screaming matches and physical altercations, I was devoted to strengthening our bond.
So, when we were around eight years old, I used one of my three gifts from Santa to give my sister the American Girl Doll they scheduled for the following year. I remember waking up that Christmas morning and looking at the pile of Christmas presents with my wrapping paper anxiously trying to identify the doll-shaped box.
I peeled the corner of the wrapping paper until I saw the unmistakable hot pink cardboard packaging and quickly slid Anna the box. I don’t remember their exact reaction, but what matters most to me is the increasing strength of our bond that happened as a result.
We went to New York City a year or so after that Christmas to visit the American Girl Store, where I endured multiple torturous hours of shopping for small plastic shoes and listening to my mother barter with doll hair stylists. But through all of the nauseatingly saturated walls, zealous screaming and absurdly priced goods, I forced a smile because Anna was happy.
These glints of joy between the fits of fighting and hatred were a beacon of hope that there was love to salvage in our relationship. Like all other forms of love, whether it be platonic or romantic, I had to abandon my ego to unearth the warmth of our relationship I craved so deeply. I’m forever grateful I learned that lesson so young.
We started making skits with their doll collection, filming episodes on our iPads where Josephine went to the grocery store and Emma threw a birthday party. Anna even started to dress me up in princess clothes and made me dance around their room like I was entertainment.
What started as playing with dolls turned into overly competitive games of Uno on the floor of my bedroom and staying up until the late hours of the night secretly chatting with each other in our Nintendo DS chat room.
Our bond got stronger as years passed and we started hatching plans to sneak me into their room at night to have sleepovers. We laid piles of shirts on the hardwood floor of my room to hide the sounds of the creaks so my dad wouldn’t suspect our plan.
Our relationship continued to grow as we got older. As twins, we navigated the awkwardness of being a modern teenager in tandem. We started going to different schools, so we matured away from each other to come back together and cultivate a relationship with the new versions of ourselves.
Since then, my sister and I have been inseparable. I can confidently say that my sister is my best friend, no matter how cheesy it sounds. When we were younger, I would celebrate the week I had to myself when Anna went to sleep-away camp, but now I can’t go more than a day without talking to them.
My sister’s best gift that Christmas was two American Girl Dolls, but little did I know then that using my Santa gift on them would give me the best gift of all.
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