The Mourner's Comforter reached me when I most needed its words by a trust-worthy Christian. It was a gift from the older of my two older brothers, Gerald, who was 17 years old when I was born. He hitch-hiked, from the town where he was finishing high school to see me when he got the call about my birth.
The younger of my two older brothers celebrated his 13th birthday about seven weeks after I was born. At that point in his young life, having a baby sister at that was not his idea of something to celebrate. Yet, he became another older brother. I owe to him my early exposure to his love of classical music and also I owe him appreciation for wise words he gave me during the time I was also about to read The Mourner's Comforter. And for many other reasons, I appreciate my brothers for the kind of person each one is.
The younger of my older brothers had a lovely tenor singing voice, I realized as I grew up, and like my other older brother he was handsome and loved good humor. He put up with a lot from me, including the time I scattered his 78 rpm records into little pieces, having toddled across them where they lay on the floor where he sat listening to music. From Bud, as he was called, as a toddler I heard music by Tchaikovsky, Chopin, Mozart, and others, not really knowing details of its beauty.
My brothers and I have ties to each other that become ever stronger as we share faith, hope, and love.
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