A voice emerges

Being a little brother is not something I can say I understand well. I wasn't one. I don't know anything about having to deal with an older brother's shadow, the nuances of not being the first child. But the general theme of a little brother's childhood quest I can summarize: try finding your own voice.

The middle brother started out almost as a clone. Looked like me, talked like me, did many of the same things I did. In the process, he was clearly "Matt's brother", and while he didn't mind that, he didn't want that to define him either. Then, one Christmas, he got a guitar, and the artist began to emerge, a very distinct way of distancing himself from his analytical math and sport loving older brother. He's now a part-time sports writer and public radio voice.

The younger brother didn't look like us, but probably had the least sense of direction for where he was going. So, after his two older brothers started down different paths, he began to take some from each of us. In a way, it made him unique. In other, he still had to find his own voice.

Flash forward to Sunday night. The younger brother is now an aspiring vocal instructor, and has been singing non stop for the past week. He is performing in a concert, which this currently typing brother was able to attend. The last number arrives, "Silent Night". The choir fans out around the nave. And I turn back to spot where he is. That's when I realize the kid has his own voice.

Finally.