I was in 11th grade, and my brother, six years younger than me, was about 11. One day, after school, I went to my room, took off my uniform, and lay down on the bed in my underwear, as I often did when I got home. I didn't lock the door because my parents didn't allow us to lock our rooms, and my brother was used to it.
That day, one of my male friends came to pick up some class notes. He walked straight into the house and started toward my room without asking anyone. But my brother noticed him and immediately stopped him. He politely told him to wait in the living room and that he'd be with him shortly.
Then my brother knocked on my door, gave me clothes from the closet, and told me to get dressed before seeing my friend.
At that moment, I realized how mature my brother had become. He acted like an older brother, protective and responsible. I felt so grateful and blessed to have him in my life.
