Christmas of 2022 was the last normal Christmas I would ever celebrate with my immediate family, but I didn’t know it at the time. That Christmas week started merrily, although my father remained home, my mother, my sister, and I enjoyed Christmas break with my mother’s family in Florida. That joy ended once we arrived at my uncle’s house and I realized something was wrong. After settling in, I looked at my mom, telling her how excited I was to relax and spend time with family, but the look on her face was grim. I knew something had happened, and I was almost afraid to ask, because why would anyone look like that when it is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year? After I finally worked up the courage to ask, what she told me changed the course of my life forever. She told me that my father’s sister was in a coma and I would never see her again, but even worse, her four kids were left without any parents. It was these four kids that would give God the gateway to teach me lessons in judgment.
      On December 17, 2023, my father’s sister was in a freakish accident at her local car wash. While at the car wash, her car rapidly reversed, ejected her from the car, and then ran her over, giving her massive injuries. She was immediately airlifted from the car wash in Kentucky to Skyline Medical Center in Nashville, Tennessee. Once she arrived at the hospital, she was put into a medically induced coma because her blood pressure was fatally low. For days, my mother’s face grew dimmer and dimmer, because she knew my aunt’s passing was imminent. My family knew that if my aunt died, we would have to take her four kids, ages fourteen, twelve, ten, and eight, into our home.
      The day before my aunt died, my mom was hopeful because my aunt showed minor signs of improvement, her blood pressure rising to acceptable levels, and I was relieved that, if my aunt lived, her ill mannered kids would not have to live with me. It was like a weight lifted off my shoulder. I thought, thank you, God for answering my prayers; I knew she would be healed. Unfortunately, that was not the case. One day after her improvement, my family prepared to go back home when I saw my mom’s eyes, red from crying. As we drove home, there was nothing but silence, until we reached a stop sign and my mom finally told me my aunt was dead.
      I realized all of the changes that would happen in my life didn’t hit me until my father called my mother in the car, and I could hear him crying over the phone. Never in my life had I seen or heard him cry. I burst into tears as I realized how drastically my life would change. Instead of being in a family of four, I was going to be part of a family of eight. I knew things like spontaneous vacations or weekly family restaurant outings were something I could no longer look forward to. When we arrived back home, we “celebrated” our last Christmas with just my mother, my father, my sister, and me. The next day, my father packed his bags and left for my aunt's house in Kentucky to prepare my aunt's kids for the move to our home. When my mother, my sister, and I finally left for Kentucky, bitterness set in. I began to ask God, Why do we have to take these kids in? What did we do to deserve these ratchet kids? When we finally arrived at my cousins’ home in Kentucky, I instantly began judging everything I saw; the state of my cousins’ home was terrible. Their house was located in an impoverished county in Kentucky, and while it was a larger, four bedroom house, there was mold on the walls, rats in the closets, and fleas everywhere. I didn't want to sit down on anything and couldn’t believe anyone had to live there. This was the first time I ever considered what life had been like for them. If this was the condition they were living in, if they were not even grieving their mother, what mental and physical state were these children living in? Regardless, I was still bitter over the fact that my family had to take them in. How could these children live with me in my home? They were loud, unmannered, unhygienic, and downright feral. I didn’t want them to disrupt my quiet, perfect life. Then, God answered my prayers and their youth pastor took them in for three months. But the mother of this family developed Hemiplegic migraines, a permanent disorder that results in pseudo strokes in stressful situations, so they could no longer care for my cousins. My father rushed back to Kentucky to pick them up and bring them to our home.
      I was angry towards God and thought that those awful kids would bring chaos into my quiet household. However, as the months passed, God showed me things, through my cousins, that helped me avoid being judgmental. For example, when my mom took two of my cousins to buy basic essentials like undergarments, they were shocked when my mom let them get new ones. The fact that my cousins were so happy over something so small opened my eyes. I began to realize that maybe God put my cousins with my family for a reason. I used to look down on my cousins for their behavior and poor hygiene. After seeing how they lived, how little their mom did in their lives, and how they reacted to basic care, I realized my family and I were the only hope for these kids to live healthy lives. Living with my cousins taught me that people are products of their environments, and when I returned to school, I realized that some students act the way they do, not because they are horrible people, but because they don't know any better. The first few weeks living with my cousins was such an eye opening experience, and though it was not what I had imagined my life would include, living with my cousins is something I have tried to understand and accept, because God has given me, through them, the opportunity to learn and grow.