"Sis?"

A small voice tried to break through his older sister's thoughts as James padded slowly and carefully into her room before sitting down next to her on her bed.

Reaching across with his left arm, he placed it on her right hand carefully.  At 7 years old, he was sometimes bullied and teased by other children for being different.

For he'd been born without most of his right arm. It stopped about an inch or two from the shoulder, something he'd grown used to over the span of his lifetime. His left arm was missing from the elbow down. Shuffling into her lap, he sat in silence and just cuddled with his big sister as he always did to try and cheer her up.

He honestly didn't really understand the implications or details of why she was sad so much. He just felt, no, knew he should try and cheer her up.