I’m 19 and live with my sister Alya (24) and her baby, Lina. After Lina’s dad left, Alya spiraled—drinking, missing feedings, staying out late. Mom and I stepped in, and I became more like Lina’s parent than her.
When Alya got a DUI after a minor crash, a social worker warned custody could be at risk. That scared her enough to enter a support program. For three months, I raised Lina full-time—feeding her, walking her, singing her to sleep. Alya sent me letters, admitting she’d failed but promising to fight for her daughter.
When she came home, she was sober and different. Slowly, she rebuilt her bond with Lina. At Lina’s second birthday, Alya announced she’d added me to her guardianship papers: “If anything happens to me, she goes to him.”
I cried. Now Alya’s thriving, Lina’s three, and I’m studying early childhood development.
Sometimes stepping up for someone else shows you who you’re meant to be.
