My parents told me that when I was 3 years old, I started asking my mother for a twin brother and sister. My mother was not too enthusiastic about this since she already had 4 children age 5 and under. I was not deterred. I started saving toys and clothes for my requested new siblings. I even named them. Jimmy James was my name for the boy. I was so young that I did not even realize this was two versions of the same name. I called the baby girl Rita. My parents were perplexed by this because they didn’t know anyone named Rita and they were at a loss as to how I came up with the name. I talked about my twins so much that people were asking my parents who Jimmy and Rita were. My mother would smile and reply that they were the babies Mary wanted. About a year later, my mother learned that she was expecting. Apparently, I went with her to one doctor visit. When she came out to the waiting room following her exam, I asked her quite clearly “did you tell the doctor that we want two?” People in the waiting room were starting to giggle so my mother tried to shush me. Mom said they only came one at a time. I stuck to my guns however and announced for all to hear that she should “go back in and tell the doctor that we want two!” There was no history of twins in our family. About a month before her due date, the doctor said he couldn’t hear more than one heart beat but based on Mom’s measurements he would like to do an x-ray to see if there was more than one baby. Imagine their surprise when my parents learned that twins were on the way. I wasn’t surprised however since I personally put the order in. When the twins arrived and they were in fact a boy and girl, my parents and relatives were stunned. Mom and Dad were discussing various names when my grandmother told my father that he needed to use the names that Mary gave the babies since she requested them and they were a “gift from God”. That is how James Joseph and Rita Marie joined our family. Growing up with the twins was like I had living dolls to play with. They were lots of fun but there were many times I would not have described them as gifts from God. Earlier this year, my brother Jim died suddenly from a heart attack. Our family always knew Jim was the ultimate Good Samaritan because he was known to help anyone in need. As we went through the wake and funeral, we were told by countless people how Jim had helped them out when they needed it most. His good deeds went far beyond what we knew. It then came to me that my gift of years ago was truly the gift that kept on giving. Jim gave to others his whole life. Jim, you will be missed by all those you helped and those who loved you. You were the best gift I ever received.