Dear Brother,


Do you remember that time when we lived in Mexico? I decided to go to the store. I think I was about 2 or 3. Our house was only two buildings away from the store; therefore i went alone.

Suddenly, I saw a homeless man sprinting towards me. I was surprised to see him run. His shoes were so torn, he was practically running barefoot. His clothes were all worn out, and he was wearing a huge grey jacket even though it was 80 degrees outside. But what caught my eye the most was his face. I clearly remember it. He had grey hairs all over. Not just on his head but he had a long mustache and beard. He pinched me with his filthy hands, and grabbed my dollar. Then he took off; he left me crying. As i looked up, i saw you through the living room window. You saw everything. That’s when you came outside to comfort me. You told me jokes, anything to get me to laugh. You get upset whenever someone beside you makes me cry. As if only you could hurt me.



I also remember you were always so mean to me. We’d constantly be fighting and arguing, especially over little things like who i hung out with. You are very protective over me. I always wondered “why?”

I could hardly do anything or go anywhere without you asking me a million questions like, “Where are you going? When you coming back? With who?” And so on.

Then one day when we were looking through our baby pictures, my parents told me you were always with me when we were little. That’s when all the pieces came together. I finally realized why you are so strict with me. Why you want to know every single thing. You don’t do it just to be nosy. You want to make sure that I don’t get into trouble, that I’m safe. I don’t blame you since were only a year apart and I’m the baby. You feel you need to protect me; you need to be responsible for me.

So for that I thank you for always being there for me when I need you the most.