Worry not, my son

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Worry not, my son

On my visit to a friend’s house, I came across a boy and a girl playing around someone’s house just across the street. From their face, built and complexion, I could easily tell that they were siblings. Knocking on my friend’s house, I heard my phone ringing. He (my friend) rang me to tell that he was on the way home and asked me to wait. I decided to sit across the yard where they boy and the girl were playing. On a vacant wooden bench in the shade of banyan tree, I enjoyed the breeze accompanied by Paulo Coelho’s The Zahir.

I barely finished the first few pages of the novel, when I was disturbed by the sound of somebody crying. The girl was sitting on the green grass in the yard, covering her face with her two tiny but fat hands. Her brother was not far away, watching from a distance but pretending to be busy with himself. From a moment, I felt, there was a moment of silence between the two that made me somehow keep my eyes on the scene. Later on, the boy approached her. As he was stepping closer, the girl seemed somewhat alert and looked at him. Tears were seen running down her chubby cheeks, but there was no sign of resistance when he sat on her side. The boy said something to his sister while gently patting her back. A minute later, they began talking to each other. And not long after, the two were out playing again chasing one another as if nothing had happened. Cheers and laughter immediately filled the air, and everybody was happy, including me.

I returned to my book but could not get my mind off the recent snapshot of life I had just witnessed. I was being reminded how grateful I should be to be born in a family of eight. I remembered that I always had someone to chat with, someone to play with, someone to tease, someone to fight with, someone who stood p for me when I fought with a friend, someone to share tears and laughter with. It was there that I actually learned the importance of a family in life. All the chats taught me how to socialize with others. All the fights taught me how to stand up for something I believed and the value of forgiving. Good Lord, I lived like this thanks to my brothers and sisters (and of course, my parents).

I was still thinking about all the lessons of life I had learned from them in the afternoon on my way back home - only this time, with slightly different subject. I thought about it but with Ito, my 14 month old only son in it.
“Being an only child, how is he going to learn how to relate with others with no brother nor sister around? How is he going to learn the value of forgiving or the need to stand up for he believes without someone to fight


with? How is he going to learn what I learned from my brothers and sisters without a brother nor a sister?” All of those questions remained unanswered ………………………….until yesterday.

Ito will have someone to play with, to fight with, to tease, to share laughter, and better … someone who is genetically almost identical – for his Mum is expecting. Cheer up Ito.