I have two brothers that are adopted. Anyone who might have been our friends when we were kids probably didn't know this fact. Actually, I didn't know this until I was about 18. It was something we didn't talk about. I actually ended up finding out about it when I was home from college and was helping my mom clean out a drawer. I ran across a journal and flipped through it. Something caught my eye about a court case as I flipped through the book, and there was the story.
My brothers knew. My parents had told them when they were young. My sister knew because she was there, but the three of us younger kids hadn't a clue.
We were all treated the same. We were all loved the same.
My dad's feelings were that since both brothers were sealed to our family in the temple, they were ours. They were no different from the four kids my mother bore. There was no reason and no benefit to be had by treating anyone differently. He's a wise man.
As I look back now, I love that my parents were so accepting and loving. There is definitely something to be learned here.