My sister wasn’t especially gifted. Dyslexia caused a struggle though school, and that in turn made her prone to stress and stubborn when it came to help. I can usually turn to friends when I’m having a hard time, but that wasn’t a bright spot, either. Her friends couldn’t confide in her. She had a great home life, so she obviously couldn’t understand their troubles. And what petty complaints she had! Soon she wasn’t even worth spending time with. When my sister got home, she walled herself up in her room for hours at a time, trying to make life work. She was always overwhelmed.

She had a way with paper, though. Give her a square of any size and peace would fly from her nimble fingers in less than a minute. And sometimes with two heads. It adorned her room, and mine.

She had a peace with me.

I was especially gifted. As came easily, like water from a spring, like friends. I smiled, I laughed, I worked through many tough times. I cried, not often, but I always got over it. I was sailing through life on a surprisingly calm sea.

I tried for years, but I never understood how to fold a crane. Some of the creases were odd, I’d miss a fold; and then next thing I’d know the wings were land-bound legs. Not very useful on a bird.

Things didn’t make sense until I was taking a break from college and doing origami with our little cousins. It was the hardest thing we attempted from their book, and their awkward hands left the cranes mashed despite my careful instruction. I did, however, make two crisp bodies for myself. They went straight on my bulletin board. Red and blue seemed to complement each other.

While I worked in my room, my eyes were constantly drawn to the cranes. They had something of perfection in them, and I wanted more of it. That, however, would require practice. Not wanting to make time for it, I took to using my receipts as paper while I waited for food. Folding without a hard surface was a unique challenge, and some days I completely messed the birds up. But I kept at it and have a bunch of them now, saved to toss at my sister when I finally get home. How much peace I have.

It sometimes bugs me, though. Regardless of how I fold the paper, the numbers show through. All my cranes have scars.