In the quiet hour of morning's grace, When shadows soften night's last trace, A whispered call through the years unfurls— Sister, you are forever my precious pearl. At the tick of the hour you first drew breath, A silent promise transcending death. Forty-one candles dance in delight, As I recall our laughter breaking night. Time, the keeper of all that's dear, Marks each memory we revere. And as you age beyond youth's gleam, You remain the same in my heart's dream. So here’s to the hour that whispers your name, The essence of joy no time can tame. Little sister, in each heartfelt call, You are ageless, cherished most of all.