About 251 babies are born every minute worldwide. In the middle of August 2011, one of those babies was my little brother. I had just walked in the door, and my aunt, who had been staying with us, was sitting on the couch with my other little brothers. I knew exactly what had happened.
“Mom’s having the baby, right?” I exclaimed. She nodded and grinned. I beamed with renewed happiness and excitement. I had another little brother.
A few days later, I, my brothers, and my dad all loaded into our large, silver van, and started the long drive to the hospital. Three kids, half an hour, and a hot, smelly car was the perfect concoction to make everyone restless and grumpy. In contrast, the hospital was cool and almost completely white. A friendly nurse, who seemed very excited to see us, led us through winding hallways and countless sets of double doors to Mom. She was hidden in a small room, behind what looked like an oversized shower curtain. It was white, like everything else. We tippy-toed in, as Daddy had instructed us to. Mom slowly came into view, red-haired and pale-faced as ever, holding a teeny bundle of blankets I recognized instantly as a newborn baby.Through the gentle swaddling of the blankets, I saw a tiny pink face, with eyelids closed like shutters over a window. I crept to the side of the bed, greeted my Mom with the joy of reunion, and she held the baby out to me. Carefully, carefully, I lifted him into my arms.
My world suddenly changed. I was overcome with the warm, fuzzy feeling of sisterly pride. I had another little brother! “Look, Megan,” my Dad whispered in my ear. “It’s your new brother,” “I see him,” I breathed. “He’s tiny!”
As I sat in that white hospital room, holding Logan Carroll Richins for the very first time, a thought popped into my mind. Why does he have to be so tiny? Another presence batted it away. He won’t be like that for long. He’ll get big faster than you know. Overcome in my world of baby brother love, I marveled in the smallness of his hands, feet, toes, ears, lips, fingers, and nose. I had forgotten how exactly fragile babies are. I leaned over him and breathed in the sweet smell and felt his almost bald head. All the hair was just peach fuzz, baby wisps. I felt his soft breaths against my face. His warmth, seeping through the blankets, warmed me also. He was the most beautiful baby boy in the entire world.
Little brothers, little brothers. Love them with all your heart. And then they mess something up, then you hate them some. Doesn’t matter which sibling.What I found out that day was probably one of the most important things I have ever learned. You can always–always–open up your heart for another to come in, another for you to love.
(Megan wrote this for a 6th grade writing assignment)