My Feelings on "Outsiders"

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 our family expanded and my siblings got married, the same attitude was taken.  My parents called them all their "sons" and "daughters."  There were no outsiders.  They were all treated as the rest of us.  There was never an unkind word spoken about any of us to the others.  When my parents spoke of my brother-in-law or sisters-in-law, it was always with the highest regard, at least as far as I experienced.  My parents were so good at emphasizing how good each in-law was for each sibling and what a miracle it was that each of us had found just the right spouse for ourselves.  There were hugs and kisses for each as we arrived and again as we left the house.

As I look back now, I love that my parents were so accepting and loving.  There is definitely something to be learned here.