Wednesday, March 31, 2010

My Perfectly Imperfect Brother

Once upon a time, there was a ten year old girl who had a brother and a sister and was the apple of her daddy's eye. One day her mom came home with a baby boy. The baby boy was not like most babies. He cried with a dull, low moan. He didn't move his legs or arms very well by himself. He didn't sleep at night. The girl helped pat his back when he couldn't sleep. She moved his arms and his legs for him, and pretended he was a sprinter, leaping over obstacles. She liked doing that because he laughed and smiled.

One day her mom and dad came home from the doctor. They told her that he may never walk or talk. They told her that the baby didn't feel things like other people felt them. Something that she thought was soft might feel rough to him. They told her that he might not see things the same way she saw things. This was very interesting to her, and so she tried and tried to see things the way that he would see them. She tried watching TV upside down and sideways, because maybe that was how he saw it. She wondered if the soft blanket hurt his hands, and if the food that she thought tasted good tasted bad to him.

She prayed that he could walk and talk every night. When he was three years old, he finally started to walk. When he was four, he got pink eye. She stayed all night with him at the hospital by his side, hoping he would get better. Her father put his hands on the little boy's head and asked Heavenly Father to help him get well, and he did.

She wanted to help him learn how to pedal a tricycle, so she taped his feet to the pedals to help him learn how to push on them with his legs. She wanted him to try, because she believed he could. If he wasn't supposed to walk and could, then he could do more. Slowly, he started to talk, and then he never stopped talking.

One day when he was five years old, she was tired and resting on the couch. Her little brother kept calling her name, but she ignored him because she was so tired. He walked up to her and placed his hand on her head, "Heav'nly Father, bless her. She sick. In name of Jesus Christ Amen." She felt so much love that she cried. She felt like she was in the presence of an angel.

As one who has an angel brother, I have been blessed in so many ways, but it has certainly been a journey of growth and understanding. The other day, C found this on his motorcycle forum. It isn't the type of thing you would THINK would be on a motorcycle forum. This is where to start:

Next, go here to see the rest of the story. Welcome, Nella, to this beautiful world where you will be the one perfecting others.

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