Unlike other florist assistants, when my sister Gayana arrives at your home to deliver a bright bunch, she has a hidden agenda.
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She'd really like to come inside and meet your dog. She'd also love to give you a hug, and by that you'd be brightening her day as much as she would be yours.
Friday is Down Syndrome Awareness Day, an important day for families like ours and the families of about 260 Canberrans with Down Syndrome. Each family will have its own stories of the heartbreak and the happiness this disability can bring.
Despite turning 15 on Thursday, Gayana has the intellectual level of about a seven-year-old. Her speech is limited, missing many of the joining words that help people understand her. She depends on her family for most things.
Some people don't seem to know how to react to Gayana. They will stare, laugh, or just take what may seem a safe option and ignore her.
I'm glad she doesn't notice when this happens, like when two teenage girls talked rudely about her struggling to get a packet of marshmallows in a shopping trolley. But of course I notice, and it hurts.
For a long time I was petrified about Gayana's future, worried about what she will do when she leaves school.
I was convinced she would never be truly happy, and that would mean I was never truly happy. If she knew any different, I know she would tell me to back off so she could fight her own battles, but it's hard not to worry.
The answer to our worry has been flower deliveries. With a mother who is a florist, our family has thankfully found a way to combine a business, GG's Flowers, with my sister's inate love of meeting people.
While her flower knowledge is limited, she has a personality that does the talking when she rings the doorbell – her favourite part of the job. Her warm nature means customers instantly smile when they open the door to find a bright-eyed girl with an even brighter bunch of flowers.
Even without the flowers, Gayana makes a statement on the doorstep. If she had her way she'd be like walking fairy floss; pink leggings, pink jumper, neon-pink shoes, lime-green painted nails and a bright purple handbag. My sisters and I usually intervene and get her to tone things down a bit.
That's the thing I've found about being a sibling to Gayana. My world is so different, enriched and fruitful.
I love her vibrant personality, how she's open to making friends with anyone. I love her incredible smile and open personality. I love that she can disarm you with a smile and win your heart with a cuddle.
But I feel the need to protect her. To help her fit in.
Most importantly we want her to have a purpose.
Helping deliver flowers gives Gayana a sense of independence, just as creative work opportunities do for many other people in Canberra with disabilities.
Her work isn't judged on profit or efficiency, it's judged on how happy she is. By that measure, business is going well.
Learn more about Gayana through her Facebook page.
■ Nipuni Wijewickrema is a journalism graduate and works at The Canberra Times as a copyperson.