 |
|
|
Surely, God gave us siblings to keep us humble. Since I have three, I should never be lacking in humility. One unforgettable memory I have is of my sister, Mary, who is five years younger than I. On an occasion when we had company and were all sitting in the living room of the parsonage, we heard a “thump, thump, thump.” Here came two-year-old Mary, banging her potty on every step, as she came down the stairs. “I was ‘onesome,” she announced as she set her potty in the middle of the floor and proceeded to use it. Our guests said they thought she was just darling with her bobbing brown curls and dancing dark eyes, but at the advanced age of seven, I just wanted to sink through the floor.
Big brother, John, is five years older than I. When I was about ten, I wished I could join in with his teen-aged crowd. They seemed to me to have such fun times together. One of their favorite activities was to gather around the recorder, where they would sing and talk to record and then play it all back to listen. One day when they went out, I decided that I’d try out the recorder for myself. I sang what I thought was a splendid soprano solo, a heartfelt rendition of “Cirribirribin.” Before I could hear how it sounded, John and his friends came back. When they saw that something had been recorded, they played it and listened. While I hid around the corner in the next room, I heard them laughing at my awful little squeaky voice. Tears of mortification rolled down my cheeks.
Baby brother, Sam, is ten years my junior. I loved to have him play in my room when he was small; he was my little buddy. He was quite entertaining as he made noises of cars and trucks to accompany his play, and I thought he was so cute. When I was almost twelve, I had some romance comic books that a girl at school had lent to me. Since Mama was very strict about my reading and I knew she wouldn’t approve, I had hidden them under my mattress. I didn’t worry about Sammy’s seeing me put them there because he wasn’t talking very much yet. One day while Mama was changing the sheets on my bed, Sammy tugged on the mattress and said, “Pitty books, pitty books.” He kept on tugging till he got Mama’s attention, and, as the old saying goes, “The jig was up.” I was worse than embarrassed; I was in big trouble.
Now, I’m sure that my siblings have some really juicy details of embarrassing moments I’ve caused them which they could tell, but this is my story, so we’ll leave those out. God has blessed us each one, and we have memories of, not only embarrassing moments, but happy times and sad times in our past. We share a precious friendship, and as we reminisce and laugh or shed a tear or two, we thank God for the family love that binds us together.
Psalm 133:1a How good and pleasant it is when brothers live together in unity. NIV
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.
|
|
|
