I must have been about four when we celebrated my sister’s 15th birthday — a grand affair in my little world. I remember the laughter, the bright candles, and most vividly, the cake. It stood there in all its glory.

After we’d devoured it, Mummy went to the kitchen to make another round of tea. She asked my sister to clear the table, and as the perfect older sibling, she quickly delegated the job to me.

As I picked up the cake platter, she leaned over and asked, “Do you know what these crumbs mean?”

I replied, “They mean the cake was super yummy.”

She said, “Not quite. Those crumbs are your share of love as the second child. The whole cake — that’s what the first child gets.”

I was horrified! Tears welled up as I imagined my tiny share of love for the rest of my life. I ran to the kitchen to confirm this injustice with Mummy.

Mummy, luckily in a good mood, listened before responding.

She said, “When a second child comes into our lives, we get another cake — one just as big and just as sweet. You’ll always get all the love you need, and it will never be less than your sister’s share.”