My brother Jorge is a person who is worth my admiration. Although I will never admit it to him because it will boost his ego to the highest level, I always admire the way he handles the most difficult situation he encounters. He is smart, analytical and practical. It has been a year since we arrived in America from the Philippines. While I am feeling depressed and lonesome, he feels so happy and contented. He has a lot of friends back home but he never mentions or writes to them. I guess he is one of the male species who is not supposed to show too much emotion. He took a job here in a department store, even though he didn't have too much experience. I can still recall the first day of his job when I stopped to ask if he was nervous. "Of course not," he replied calmly. I kept asking the same question until he admitted he was nervous. He walked out of our house looking and feeling completely calm. I couldn't believe it; if it had been me, I would have been a nervous freak taking a job in this strange country. The morning after I asked him how his first day had gone and he answered, "Okay." As easy and simple as that. End of discussion. He never says much himself but you know everything from the way he acts. Ever since he got his first job I thought he would be the boss of the family when my parents were out, but he never tries. Even though he's earning his own money, he is always willing to give me some when I need it and the amazing part is he never expects me to return it. For me he is the most wonderful brother in the world.

When I was in the third grade I often asked for help when I had math homework. I was really stubborn when it came to math but my brother would carefully explain it to me until I got it. He'd do everything he could but if I still couldn't understand the problem he'd turn to my father for further learning.

My brother is not a saint, however. He can be so immature and insensitive. He will burp as loud as thunder, followed by a laugh. That always drives me nuts. He feels so proud of his ability to burp. I guess brothers do that to annoy their sisters. All I can say is, it is working. He often upsets me when he steals the best chair in the living room or snatches the remote control from me. He makes fun of me a lot of times and I end up in tears. But after the day of teasing, I always forget by morning. I don't know why I forget how upset I am; it's a weird but great feeling. Every time I feel depressed he is there to make me laugh. He gives me rides almost everywhere. And I am very grateful for that, and maybe when I get older, I'll look back at these stupid and crazy times as precious time we've spent together, as memories to recall and a feeling to last and keep as the years go by. n