Running For His Life
He was fiveyears old when my parents first noticed that my second oldest brother was very ill. He had a very aggressive type of asthma and he would get sick very often and we would go to the hospital about 2 to 3 times a week. I remember one time my parents told me about the time he almost died, I was still a little child so I don’t remember that well, but I do remember when he was connected to all those wires in his bed at the hospital the first time I saw him.
My family almost lost him, but one day my mom was sitting at the end of the bed right next to him and she was crying and praying, my brother Gilbert wakes up and looks at her and tells her “why are you crying mother, don’t cry, look Jesus is right next to me and he is smiling at me” and my mom was speechless, confused, and at the same time happy. I mean how the hell a little five year old boy knowsabout something like this or seeing Jesus right next to him. I sometimes ask him about it and he still remembers that day like if it was yesterday.
Well like I said I was very small and I barely remember the incident. What I do remember is the day I saved his ass. We lived in Los Angeles, California when the first incident occurred, and we lived there for a couple more years until we moved to Mexico for about two years. It was a hot muggy summer in Durango, Mexico everything was fine, my brother and I were watching television and there was nobody in the house but us two, and that’s when it happened again. He started gasping for air and I told him “What’s wrong Gil” and he did not respond so I started to panic, I was only 9 or 10 years old at the time he was like 12, so I ran outside to the house looking for help and guess what I found no one. I ran inside to check on my brother and his face was turning purple, so I did what any other good brother would have done. I picked him up and I started to run as fast as I could to the nearest taxi around the block from the house. As I ran...