My three children often play a game wherein they talk about their future aspirations: My oldest wants to be a train conductor and have his own station to run; my daughter wants to be a doctor and have her own hospital to run, my youngest wants to be a farmer, in charge of a farm complete with livestock, tractors and trucks.

I think it started when we were in their home state to finalize the adoption. Every time we passed a farm, my youngest would shout, “There’s my barn!” Then the other two would “stake their claim” to whatever was “theirs:” My oldest claimed the nearby rail line; and my daughter, though I don’t recall seeing any hospitals, decided she would run one anyway.

Thus it is now, four months later. Though in our home state there aren’t as many farms, my youngest will still shout with glee, “There’s’ my barn!” when he sees one and the others still discuss their various careers. In fact, they have set up interdependent agreements with each other: My oldest will use his railway to transport supplies to my daughter’s hospital; my youngest will grow healthy food for the hospital to serve, and so on.

Today dawned grey and drizzly. My youngest woke up completely under the weather; his normally robust appetite almost non-existent. My oldest, spurred on by the love that only a true sibling can have, began to minister to my youngest’s every need. He set up his favorite videos for him to watch. He offered to read stories or play games. He clucked over my youngest like a mother hen!

Sissy, be it the “doctor” in her, or the “hospital administrator” also hovered. She prayed for him, sat next to his bed, and went into hyper-helper mode!

My youngest completely responded to this outpouring of love! He began to call for my oldest when he needed something (not often, as though taking advantage … just preferentially). He played with his sister. Soon he was telling them how much better he felt!

Ah, the love of siblings!

Photo credit: Sundesigns @ Stock Xchng