My little sister was born with Pfeiffer's Syndrome — a severe craniofacial disorder that causes the bones in the skull to close prematurely. Excess pressure was put on her brain which not only caused her face to take on a different shape but also affected her nervous system.

I wrote this poem when I was thirteen after she passed away — eight years ago on this day. I will always remember her courage and feisty attitude in the face of adversity and I am always inspired to move forward with a similar attitude.

Over the horizon lays a world so different from our own.

A world where everyone lives in peace,

where everyone is accepted.

A world where race doesn't matter,

and no one cares about how much money you make

or what clothes you buy, or how many friends you have.

A world where little girls and boys run freely,

and no child is harmed.

A world in which there are no uncontrollable disasters,

or stress over something, that's really nothing, when compared to everything.

A world where the clouds drift over a fresh palette of blue,

the trees dance to the wind;

a world where dreams and hopes of a lifetime come true.

Soaring over the horizon,

carried on rays of sunshine,

will be my beloved sister.

Where she'll sing louder than the roar of a waterfall,

her voice ringing like bells in the distance.

Where she'll see the unseen.

Notice the unnoticed.

Find the lost.

Love the unloved.

Where she'll dive into a field of yellow poppies,

peaking down to check on the people left,

on the other side of the horizon;

people she knows that she'll see again one day.

Until then, her spirit will linger on in the rays of sunshine.

But most of all,

in our hearts.