A special delivery (or two)

I heard that being an only child was a bad thing and that soon I would need a brother or sister to keep me company.

Spotting immediately that my toys would be at risk, I argued that they would either get broken or - more likely - be appropriated by the new family member.  This did not go down well with Mum and Dad. 

For quite a long time I believed that my tricycle, Meccano and small train set were safe, as nothing new had come through the post, and life remained normal. Mum was Mum and small boys do not notice that she had put on quite a bit of weight.

Then came the day that Dad told me Mum was going into hospital for a few days and that he would be looking after my meals etc.  Mum came home a few days later with something small, pink, noisy, smelly and sometimes wet.

This invader I was told was my new sister Alison. Was I pleased? Not very, but my toys seemed to be quite safe for the time being.

Life settled down for a couple of years and I began to get acquainted with my new sister.  Then disaster struck. Mum went into hospital again and I knew what was coming, either another sister or a brother.

When Elaine arrived at home Mum said, ‘here is another little sister for you, what do you have to say?’  I remember saying, ‘oh no, not another!’  My grandmother, who lived with us, came to my rescue. She was to come to my rescue many times in the follow weeks and years!

Now in later life, I value both my sisters enormously, and they are a great comfort to myself and my wife during the Covid outbreak.  I have to thank God that He can see further than I can, or ever could.

David Taylor