I believe in my brother Luke. Luke loves to break the drywall in our house. He finds it absolutely hysterical when he puts a hole in the wall and will laugh for hours, even after my dad lectures him why it’s disrespectful. Once that wall is patched up again with fresh coat of paint, Luke will smash it again. And he will laugh even harder. You may think these are the antics of a seven year old kicking in walls, but Luke is fourteen, and his holes are made from his wheelchair.

I believe Luke’s disability has presented our family with a world of challenges, including many I’m still learning to overcome. The obstacles that come with a physically challenged sibling are part of Luke’s gift to us. Stares at the local mall, looks of annoyance when Luke laughs or yells loudly in restaurants, impatience when Luke is taking his time driving his power wheel chair through a doorway, and rude comments when my mother feeds him through his tubing system in public have been gifted to us. Luke’s disability has given my parents the grief of knowing their child will never achieve his dreams like his siblings. It’s given my brothers and I the heartache of hearing our classmates call Luke ret**ded or point and laugh. It’s given me sadness because Luke will never go to college, fall in love, have children, or someday be gray-haired with his grandchildren, like I will go on to do.

Despite every challenge that being Luke’s sister has brought, I believe there is no one else that could take his place. Luke is the one that will repeatedly tell my mom to shut up at dinner when she talks too much, even after he’s told that’s rude. Luke is the one that yells “Huggie!” every morning as I leave the house for school, he knows that hug will make my morning. Luke is the one that drives his wheelchair up to complete strangers in public, just to say hi. Luke is also the one that upon hearing a rude comment from a stranger, will turn his chair around and smile up at them.

Luke’s humor, compassion, and love for those who are cruel to him has taught me what it means to be a person. In the face of every surgery and challenge that has came his way, Luke has never once lost his smile. Out of everyone I know, he has the right to lose his humanity but instead he has defined it. At his best, Luke is compassionate and caring, he still asks about my Nana’s neighbor in Florida who he hasn’t seen in years. At his worst, he can be mean and impatient, just like the rest of us. Luke feels the same fears as us, but he defies odds by never giving up. Humanity has something to learn from Luke Gentile and his smile that never falters. We too, should never falter in the face of a challenge.

These gifts Luke has bestowed upon me, I will pass on to everyone I know. They are lessons that cannot be taught in a classroom, learned from a professor, or memorized from a book. These gifts on facing life’s challenges with compassion, humor, and a smile will be passed on to my children and on, lessons I learned from the boy who finds joy crashing into drywall but whose smile patches any hole.