My oldest son remembers well what it feels like
to be a foster child, to feel unloved, to feel unwanted.
That early pain has made him an extra sweet and sensitive young man.
It has made him a terrific big brother.
When he was five, he used to say to me, "Mommy,
I'm going to have a brother. We're going to hold hands
and run while Daddy chases us."
When the Big K. loves, he loves with his whole heart, with
no reservations. He is loyal and kind. He LOVES P. and Baby
J. He loves them with his whole heart. He is amazingly kind
and patient with his younger brothers.
He takes the job of being Big Brother quite seriously.
He knows how much his younger brothers love him, and
he loves them right back.
On the day that the younger boys were adopted,
Big K. said to me, "Mommy, I prayed for a brother and
Jesus brought me two."
I am thankful, every day, for the example that my oldest son is to my
younger sons. I am thankful that he loves them
so very much. I love watching the three of them together as they
laugh, play, and run while Daddy chases them.
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