Lessons from my little brother

Everyone else in the world was getting $10 to $20 a week for doing nothing. Somehow, in the middle of spring, back in the early 90’s, we managed to negotiate an allowance of $5 a week if we did our chores. I still remember hauling the trash all the way to the other side of the yard and securing them in the bins behind the camper. (Even using a push mower to cut ½ the yard). My other friends didn’t have to do anything specifically – just stay out of trouble I guess, and the green would fly. My brother and I, on the other hand, had to work for it. But, we were finally moving up in the world at $5 a week. We saved our money from month to month and when the time came, we could get virtually whatever we wanted at the store.
I was in love with dinosaurs and Dino-riders were all the craze. These humans and space creatures lived in a world where they harnessed the power of dinosaurs for transportation, work, and war. The evil dinos were controlled by electrode metal helmets, or masks, that were branded on them. Of course, the humans didn’t manipulate dino brain waves, they simply trained and cared for them. But, that’s far more than you need to know. The point is, I spent my afternoons arranging these scenarios and battles and I just had to have every dino-rider in the collection.
I had already spent my allowance the week before, so my purchasing power was limited that day. My brother, on the other hand, had over $25 saved up when we walked in Kmart that evening. On the 3rd toy isle, bottom shelf, sandwiched between the other dino-rider gear, was the T-rex - the largest and my favorite. Until now, I hadn’t been able to find it anywhere. Even Lionel Toy Warehouse was sold out. Of course, I had a fit. I begged. I pleaded. I cried. I even bartered for a cash-advance – but my mom would have none of it. I had less than $10 and there was no way I was going home with a T-rex that day. In the midst of that unruly scene, which lasted for our entire trip to Kmart that evening, my brother made an unlikely gesture.
Just before we were leaving, he offered to give me the rest of the money I needed to buy the T-rex. I went home with the most awesome walking dinosaur you could get in 1990. And my brother went home that day with a pack of plastic green army soldiers for less than $2.
It wasn’t the last time he gave up something of himself for me so that I might be able to have what I wanted or so that I might be happy. From the beginning, my brother always had the gift of a compassionate heart. Over the years, as I’ve looked back on some of those moments, I’ve been ashamed at some of my actions and reactions toward my little brother and continually amazed about the lessons he was teaching me. As I considered the stories of David and Jonathan and our call to friendship, I realize I’ve been far more on the receiving end of those friendships than perhaps I’ve ever been on the self-giving end.