The other day, I wrote about my only memory of the day I became a big sister for the first time. Today, I thought I would talk about the part that I do remember; the children who made me a big sister.
Two years is a really long time, especially when you’e a little kid. All I knew in life was my little brother and sister. But when I was five years old, I had my entire world shattered when they were taken away from our family and returned to their biological father. It was extremely hard to lose a brother and sister for the first time. I mean, it has been hard every time it happens, but the first time was especially rough. I was suddenly an only child again, and while I no longer had to share my toys, I longed for the company of my siblings again. It was so hard to lose my brother and sister that we seriously considered not doing foster care anymore. But it was a good thing we did keep going, because the very next child that was placed with us was the first of my siblings to be adopted.
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