As a parent, I worry if my kids will ever survive childhood. It’s not so much that big, harsh world that everyone must face, but rather the terror and torture delivered by siblings within the confines of their very own home. Life can be tough. Siblings can be tougher.
Like any family, my kids do their share of fighting. And though rivals shift and relationships ebb and flow, I like to think that they really do love and care for each other. But some days, I have my doubts.
So, every once in a while, when I catch a glimpse of my children really loving, and nurturing, and protecting one and other, it fills me with pride, and joy, and pure satisfaction.
Like today. My boys were skateboarding in the front yard. The Strongman wanted to master the quarter pipe, but he was a little scared. The Magician took his hands, and balanced him, as he tried over and over again, to navigate the giant ramp.
And finally, after a little practice and a lot of determination, he did it. All by himself. And his big brother was right by his side, cheering him on.
To me, this picture is worth a thousand words.