When I was about three, we lived in Clifton, CO in a house that was basically a duplex with a home upstairs and one down. We lived in the upstairs unit. There were lots of stairs to get to our front door and a deck--all wood, I believe. We had use of part of the yard below, and we had a swing set! This was a very big deal. The unit below us had a cement patio leading out to the yard. One day, my brother, Adam (who was about 1 and 1/2), and I were headed out and down the stairs to play. As Adam started towards the stairs I heard a voice loud and clear say, "Jen, DO NOT let him go down the stairs." Our mom was inside, there was no one else around, but the voice is one I listened to. I said, "Adam, stop. Don't go down the stairs." He turned and looked at me like I was crazy--a look he still gives me to this day. He started down again, and again I heard, "Jen, DO NOT let him go down the stairs." So, once again, I said, "Adam, stop!" Another look, and another try, and my little brother fell between the rails, down many, many feet and onto the concrete below.
I remember little after this. There are images of my mom on the ground with him crying and holding him. I think he was trying to stand up. Then I remember him coming home from the hospital. He had fractured his skull, but in such a place that the damage was minimal. My brother has always been marked for greatness. He is great. I love him a great deal. I don't know if I could have actually prevented him from falling that day, but I do know that we have a Father in Heaven who loves us and watches over us. I've known that since I was three and heard a voice straight from Heaven telling me to protect my brother.
2 comments:
A very vivid memory for me, as well. I'm just glad we got to keep him around.
Me too. I like him.
Post a Comment