I grew up in the middle of six brothers. They were and are my best friends. When the sixth child in the family was born we found ourselves in the middle of some serious medical issues and my parents had to balance us with the little fella who lived in the hospital, and the way it turned out we didn’t see them nearly as much as we would have liked for a good period of time. But though they couldn’t often spend real time with us, and certainly not give each one of us individual attention on a regular basis, it had no negative effects on our relationship. We learned to suffer together as a family, and grew astoundingly close… closer, I think, than if we had continued to live the quiet and peaceful life.
So, yup, I’m a gal from a large family. If I get married I hope that God will bless me with many little ones, because through times thick and thin I have never regretted any of my siblings or wished for one less (still wish, in fact, that there could be more). I love 'em, and I thank God for them.
This is so true. Our little fella who had the medical issues is a special needs kid… he had a stroke when he was a baby, and along with physically handicapping him it set him back mentally. We’ve always been homeschooled, and some of his therapists were concerned that the home education was going to hold him back.
Not with all those older siblings!
Though the therapy was appreciated just because he enjoyed it if for nothing else, it wasn’t what taught him how to talk after all those years. He learned how to talk because he learned how to sing first… he would sit and listen while daddy played the guitar, and his fascination with music made him very, very attentive when his older siblings sang him old folk songs. He learned how to sing
Brennan on the Moor and it moved him from baby talk to stringing words together to form genuine sentences. It was awfully cute; I wish I could remember it all better!
He learned to do so much, and he progressed so much physically and mentally, just because he wanted to do the things that his big brothers did. He was in his family, and that meant he was in an environment that was
totally accepting of him, without any reserve. I blink a little even now when people make mention of the fact that he’s a special needs boy… I get so used to seeing him simply as a unique individual that it surprises me. Eh? He’s different? Doesn’t every family have an Aidan?
Yes, I’m grateful for my large family not just because of how they formed me, but how they formed him.