The doctor told my mother that it would be morning before the baby came. He went to bed.
Ten minutes later…
My father’s only son was born; delivered by a very excited, but inexperienced intern. It was a “high forceps” delivery that left two bruises on either side of a very tiny head.
Four months later…
My mother could not get the baby to wake up. At the hospital, they said that it was a massive cerebral hemorrhage. Extensive brain damage. Irreversible.
One year later…
Medical journals of the day recorded the youngest person ever to survive six brain operations.
The doctors said, “He will require too much care. He will never be normal. The burden will be too much to bear. He will ruin the lives of your other children.”
The doctors said, “Put him into an institution.”
GOD said, “This child is my gift to you. Take him home and love him.”
No first words…
No first steps…
No first day of school…
No first date…
No graduation day…
No wedding day…
No children to carry on the family name.
He did not “ruin the lives of the other children”. My life and the lives of my sisters were made better by his presence in our parents’ home.
My parents are in their seventies now. They have provided loving care for GOD’s gift for the last fifty years.
He has never spoken a word… but he can hum every hymn he has ever heard.
He has never taken a step… but his influence on my life guided me into a career in nursing that has lasted twenty-nine years.
He never went to school… but he has been a teacher for fifty years.
Faith that moves mountains!
Hope in the face of adversity!
GOD’s grace that is sufficient!
The virtue of patience!
Compassion for “the least of these”!
These are but a few of the lessons he has taught.
He did not have children of his own… but six nieces and nephews got to see firsthand the miraculous way GOD used his life. And now, my two grandchildren will have the opportunity to be blessed by the gift GOD bestowed upon us fifty years ago… my beloved brother, David.
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