I was just 14 when my brother and I were left all by ourselves. He was everything I had, so I did my best to take care of him as well as I could. Unfortunately, he was taken away from me and was placed in a foster home, and so was I.
When I turned 16, I started working three jobs while attending night school. Luckily, I was able to rent a tiny apartment. It was the first step towards my dream of reuniting with Samuel again. Everything felt overwhelming, but I knew it would all be worth it once my brother was by my side again.
During our supervised visits, he would whisper, “When can I come home?” and I’d force out, “Soon,” hoping this time it wouldn’t turn into another lie.
During the final custody hearing, the judge looked at me and said, “Brad, you are simply too young.” But what they couldn’t understand was that Samuel was my entire world. Francis, the case worker, offered her sympathy. “Brad, I am aware you are doing everything you can, but it’s just not enough.”
Back in my tiny apartment, I sank into the couch and thought of the happy times, when my mother was still alive. We never had much, but at least we had each other. I missed those times and my heart ached with the thought that things could never be the same and that I’d lose my brother forever.
As I was choking in tears, my landlady, Mrs. Rachel, knocked on the door. She brought cookies and asked me with a concerned look. “Brad, how’d court go?”
“They want proof I can provide for him, like I wouldn’t starve myself to make sure he’s fed,” I answered as my frustration grew.
“I know how much you love your brother, and I know you’d do anything for him, but the system needs something more solid,” she said as she placed her hand on my shoulder.
“They say my apartment’s too small. He needs his own room,” I said.
That’s when Mrs. Rachel said, “You know what? Fix up the spare room upstairs. Same rent. Just make sure you don’t burn my house down.”
My eyes lit. “Are you sure?” I asked, and she just smiled.
I started working on that room right away. I painted the walls blue, Samuel’s favorite color.
Frances stopped by a couple of days later and said my best option was kinship care.
As I stood in court the following day, I made sure the judge knew how much this meant to me and my brother. “I might be young,” I said, “but I’ve cared for Samuel his whole life and I can give him a home where he feels safe and loved.”
Samuel’s foster parents were also there, and they also agreed that my brother belonged with me.
The judge needed time to make a decision, but when she finally spoke, she said exactly what I was praying to hear. “The best place for Samuel is with his brother.”
Samuel, who was sitting in the back row, rushed towards me. That day, we celebrated with pizza. It was the day things finally fell into place.
