Even as a little child, my sister had the most expressive, beautiful eyes.
When she was angry with someone, her tiny little fists would clench tightly by her sides as she glared in defiance at whoever dared enough to arouse that anger.Her eyes would burn with unshed tears and she would stare unblinking with such defiance and chagrin that you would be compelled you picked her tiny frame into your arms. The clenched fists would unfold then and encircle themselves tightly around your neck and she would give in to bawling at the top of her voice.

Fiery one, she was.

And still is. As you can see. Thank God, I'm not compelled to pick her in my arms any more when she does that. Now, I just take pictures.