I remember a day when I came back from school to find mum sat on the stairs, her arms wrapped tightly around the bottom post, sobbing. I think I was eight or nine years old.

I sat next to her, put my arms around her, and asked why she was crying. And, proving how upset she really was, she told me.

She'd been to my sister's school and spoken to one of her teachers. Who'd told her that SJ's progress wasn't good. And that, if she carried on in this way, she would end up in a home when she was older. As in, a "mental" home.

I think I may have cried too - not then, but later. But one thing I'm sure of is that we both promised each other that that was never going to happen to her.

That was many years ago. And it's amazing to compare that day to this and realise everything that she has achieved, and continues to achieve.

She's a stubborn little thing with a lot of pride. Which, speaking as her sister who had to grow up next to her, could be a right pain in the arse. But which, speaking as her sister who loves her, I am truly thankful for. Because it's what motivates her, drives her, keeps her trying no matter what, when most people I know - myself included - would have given up long ago.

She finds it difficult to understand and follow certain conversations. But she's one of the most intuitive people I know, with a gift for reading moods.

She finds it difficult to express herself. But she doesn't let it stop her joining in.

She can't tie her shoelaces. But she can show you how to cook a mean curry.

Most of all, she loves people. Can't get enough of them. Never gives up on them. And values them above everything else in her life.

And that, my friends, is one of the wisest outlooks of all.