“Your brother was born with a condition called trisomy 13,” my dad began to say. I was still clueless as to what was going on but I stayed quiet and let my dad talk. “The doctors do not think he will live very long.” My brother and I began to cry. My dad told us to enjoy the time we had and be thankful God gave us the time he did. I walked over to my mom and crawled in the bed with her. The doctors walked in, and with disbelief in their eyes my brothers vitals were normal. They discharged my mom and kept my brother for another two days. The doctors had never seen a baby with this condition live more than a few hours, yet there was my brother and he’d been alive for 43 …show more content…
“Where did he go? Why isn’t he here anymore?” I would ask myself. As I grew older I began to realize what had happened. I grew angry at myself and at God. I did not understand how God could love us so much, yet take away my brother like that. For about a year or so I just went through the motions of church. I did not want to be there and I hated every minute of it. My dad finally had a talk with me and explained to me that God gave us my brother for a reason. Not to just take him away but for him to be a testimony to others. God gave us a blessing, and we should not take it for granted. I was not fully convinced, but I began to read my Bible and pray that God would give me clarity. It took a long time for me to get to the place I am today. I’m not going to lie and say I have not had my doubts, but I am grateful for the time that I had with my brother. Instead of being angry with God I pray and ask God to help me seek him. I thank God for this blessing and giving me fourteen wonderful months with