My Brother, Yet Not My Blood
We used to walk to school together as children, holding our mothers’ hands each as they took the walk down our street to school. We grew through the years as close as we can be, sharing most of our lives together. The tears and the joy, our achievements, our pain and our love lives.
In my case, I was an only child at that time and so was a bit over protected by my parents who even though didn’t have much tried to give me the best they could. On the other hand, my friend who grew to become my sister, was from a large family.
And so my gain from my parents we shared. My love for her made my parents accept her as my sister as they had come to realise we couldn’t stay apart for too long. We were always together, we fought, made up and fought again.
Finally, I grew and left after gaining admission in the higher institution but my sister didn’t, so I forged ahead and urged my parents to get her into school too. At this time, I was in my 3rd year with her living with me in the apartment my parents got for me. She finally got admission into same institution as I and our joy knew no bounds.
I’m married now and so is she with kids but I am still believing God for my own kids but we have kept this friendship and God gave us husbands who appreciate our friendship and have also gained sisters through the joy we share being together. To me, this is who and what you call FAMILY. – sent in from a fan in Katsina.
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