Chapter 1

Chapter 1
God's Plan

I was 9 years old when my brother was born. For as long as I could remember, it had been my dream, and that of my twin sister, Kim, to have a baby sister or brother of our own. So needless to say, we were overjoyed when we learned that our wish was about to become a reality!

As it happened, having a baby brother turned out to be as good in real life as we anticipated it would be. We doted on him from the moment he was first placed on our laps as a 3-day-old infant. My sister and I had been away all week at the school for the blind in Aberdeen, SD, more than 200 miles away from home. So waiting to see him for the first time was obviously agonizing for both of us.

To avoid Rory's welcome home from turning into a heated argument over who should hold him first, somebody came up with the brilliant idea of placing Rory on a pillow which was laid across both of our laps. And so we sat for several hours, until Mom finally said it was bedtime. The only thing we insisted on was having Mom switch the baby's position from time to time, so that we could take turns "having the head" on our lap, while the other one was relegated to being happy with just his feet.

The first thing I remember about Rory was his lusty cry--which he showed us immediately upon his arrival home from the hospital. He cried a lot that first night, after my sister and I had gone to bed. Mom told us he must have a mild case of colic, but we were convinced it was only that he missed our companionship.

The next morning, I quietly walked to the bassinette where he was sleeping, and ever so carefully picked him up and carried him out to the other room to greet the rest of the family. My grandma was the first to notice me, and she rushed over--alarmed to see me walking with him unaided. It didn't take her long to realize, however, that she need not have worried. Kim and I were very careful with him, and always shielded his head with our hand in case we should encounter an unexpected obstacle in our path.

I could tell right away that Mom and Dad were very proud of their new son's arrival into the family. Dad was impressed with his strong grip, which he demonstrated each time someone put their finger into his hand. We were all amused when Rory's hand moved over Dad's shirt-pocket the first time he held his boy for an extended period. "Are you looking for the check-book, already, son?" Dad quipped. "Starting a little young, aren't you?"

"I wonder if he'll like music, and be a singer someday," Kim mused.

"Of course, he will!" I assured her, as though there could be no doubt. "How else could he be in the family band?"

"He'll have you girls to teach him," Grandpa pointed out. "So I'm sure it won't take him long to learn the songs."

"And we can teach him other stuff, too," Kim added--already thinking ahead to the time when Rory would be old enough to become our own built-in, ready-made student and playmate. She and I had already decided we wanted to be teachers when we grew up, so we knew our brother would give us good practice.

Kim and I hadn’t been too thrilled to learn that we had a baby brother instead of a sister at first. Some of our classmates had little brothers, and we had come to the conclusion that when they reached about 4 years of age, they became a huge pain, and made it their business to wreck all their older sisters' belongings. But once we met our own brother, all these fears vanished, and there was never any question but that he would be the ideal baby and grow up to be the best little boy that anyone could ask for--with us to help mold him, of course.

We were very grateful that we didn't have to stay at the school for months at a time as most of the other kids did. Our parents had committed to bringing us home every weekend. It was hard enough to wait until Fridays to see Rory and catch up on how he'd grown while we were away all week. We couldn't wait until summer, when we'd have three whole months to be with him every day, uninterrupted! We loved helping to care for and play with him. We were so proud when he made his first cooing sound, and the whole family gathered around the couch to listen when he laughed for the first time. We were glad Mom never asked us to help change a diaper though! We would often hold our nose and make sure we were at the other end of the house when that was being done. But other than that, we couldn't think of anything wrong with our brother. In our opinion, he was just a perfect baby!

One day when Rory was three months old, Mom told us that she would be taking Rory to have a check-up and some shots. Kim and I didn't like the idea of having our sweet brother poked and prodded with needles, but Mom had assured us that it was normal procedure, and something that all babies needed to have done. She promised the doctor would be as gentle as possible, and that Rory would probably sleep through most of it and only fuss for a few seconds when the time for the shot came.

When Mom got back with Rory, though, she seemed very quiet and a little sad. We asked how the appointment had gone, and if everything was okay with our brother, and she told us he was doing just fine. So I couldn't figure out why she and Dad were so subdued.

That evening, Dad took Kim and me for a motor-cycle ride, which was one of our favorite activities! When we returned to the house, Dad stopped the engine, and the three of us just sat out there for awhile, listening to the crickets and talking together as we often did just before bedtime.

"Soon we'll be too big to fit all three of us on the motor-cycle at one time," Kim observed. "Mom better get one before long, so there will be enough room for everybody.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Especially after Ror gets big enough to ride, too."

"I bet he'll like motor-cycles even better than we do," Kim commented. "'Cause, he's a boy an' everything."

"He'll probably even wanna get one of his own someday," I said. "Would you let him get one if he wants to, Dad--when he's old enough, I mean?"

Dad was quiet for a long moment. Then he cleared his throat and said carefully, "Well, I don't think he'll be getting one of his own. He'll just have to be happy riding with me, like you guys do."

"How come?" I wanted to know. "Other boys get cars and motor-cycles and stuff like that when they're teenagers."

"Well, that's true," Dad admitted. "But Rory wouldn't be able to drive one."

"Why not?" Kim asked. "Couldn't you teach him?"

"I’m afraid not,” Dad told her. "We found out today that Rory can't see."

"You mean, he's blind like us?" we both asked in unison, a little shocked by this news.

"That's right," Dad replied. "We've actually known this for quite awhile already, but the doctor confirmed it today."

I thought the doctors always told you that if you had more kids, they wouldn't be blind," Kim reminded him.

"I guess they were wrong," I answered her a little condescendingly. Then turning back to my father, I went on soothingly, "But we can always teach him Braille like we taught Gramp, So then maybe he won't have to go away to school like we do."

"I still don't get why he's blind, though," Kim persisted. "How do you know he can't see, anyway? He seems normal to me."

"Yes, he is a normal little baby," Dad agreed. "But he just doesn't follow movements with his eyes the way other babies do. And he doesn't reach out for a toy or anything unless we put it in his hand. So that's how we know he can't see."

Kim and I were quiet for several minutes, digesting all this information. Finally I said cautiously, "But Dad, you've always said that God was going to heal us someday and make us see. So why would He let you have another blind kid?"

"I don't know why," Dad said. "But I do know that God has a reason. You know that verse I've told you so many times, which says that all things work together for good to those who love God and are called according to his purpose? This means God has a plan for everything that happens. He knows why you guys are blind, and why Rory can't see, either. He has a special purpose for all of it, and we just have to remember that and keep going the best we know how, until He shows us what that purpose is."

"Maybe it's so He can work an even bigger miracle," I offered. "Or so that more people will hear about our family and then learn about God. After all, I don't know of any other families that have three blind kids."

"I guess that means we're kind of a special family," Kim reasoned.

"Come on, you guys,” Mom called through the kitchen window just then. “The mosquitoes are gonna eat you alive if you stay out much longer. It’s getting late, anyway, and time you two were in bed."

I lay awake for a long time that night, turning restlessly from one side to the other. Finally I decided to talk with Kim about everything we'd just learned. Maybe she could help me sort out my own thoughts better.

Unfortunately, just as I was about to nudge her and ask if she were still awake, I heard a soft snore beside me. I decided to let her keep sleeping, and try to do the same, myself. So I lay very still and closed my eyes, waiting for sleep to come.

It was at that moment that I heard the faint sound of voices, coming from down the hall. Mom and Dad were in the middle of a serious discussion of some kind. I sat up and strained to hear what they were saying, but couldn't make out the words.

Suddenly, Mom came down the hall to check on us one last time, as was her customary routine. Quickly I lay back down on the pillow and turned my head toward the wall. I breathed deeply, just as Kim was doing. Mom must have been convinced that we were both sleeping, because she and Dad no longer tried quite so hard to keep their voices down.

To my surprise, it sounded like Dad was telling Mom the exact same things he had mentioned to Kim and me earlier--about how God had a plan, and that it wasn't up to us to question His reasons. The only difference was that Mom wasn't reacting the same way we had to what he said. In fact, her reaction was quite different from ours.

"I'm tired of never having any answers," she was saying. "How much more do we have to go through? How much more does God think we're supposed to take?"

I realized with astonishment that Mom was actually crying! I couldn't believe it! I didn't think grown-ups ever cried! Especially not Mom! Why, she hadn't even cried on the day she had to leave Kim and me at the school in Aberdeen by ourselves for the first time! At least, if she had, I never knew about it.

"We just gotta have faith," Dad said, trying to comfort her. "What else can we do? If we don't keep trusting, what do we have left to hope for?" But even he didn't sound very confident anymore.

"I can't keep believing and trusting, when there aren't any answers," Mom insisted. "It isn't fair! This isn't the way things were supposed to pan out! I just can't go through all this again!"

"God will give us strength," Dad told her. "He has always brought us through whatever we needed to face. We can't give up now."

As I continued to listen, I tried to figure out what it all meant. For the first time, I realized that our blindness was really a big deal! I had hardly ever thought about it before, and Mom and Dad never seemed to worry about it much, either. They just treated us like normal kids, and expected us to be well-behaved and get good grades in school like everybody else. I had no idea this news about Rory would be so hard for them to accept.

"Dear Lord, won't you please heal our eyes, so Mom and Dad won't be so sad?" I prayed. "They really, really want us to be able to see, and I know you can do it, if you want to."

All at once, I began to feel very sleepy. I felt all warm and soft inside, like God was right there beside me, listening to my prayer. I didn't feel scared or worried anymore. God would take care of us, like He always had before. I knew I would sleep peacefully the rest of the night, and that God would help Mom and Dad to feel better too, just as He had done with me.