Park People reflect on being the youngest child as we begin a sermon series, “A Life After God’s Own Heart.” Our first text was from 1 Samuel 16, Samuel’s anointing of David. Afer Jesse’s seven oldest sons pass by the old prophet and none bear the mark of the one chosen by God, Samuel asks if there is another. “There is still the youngest, but he is tending the sheep,” Jesse replies, convinced that God would not call the youngest to be king. But God rarely conforms himself to the things of which we’re convinced.

I asked Park members to reflect on being a youngest child (or having a youngest sibling). Here’s some of what they had to say:

What comes to mind is the number of baby pictures the youngest child has as compared to older siblings, there were never as many, only a couple. Also, I always had hand me down clothes.

We (older ones) would pick on the youngest all the time, partially because she was the “goodie-2-shoes”. She would always say “I’m telling”.

But… we would also get jealous because she would get whatever she wanted. Mom used to pick out my clothes, but that stopped with the youngest - they were tired of the arguments. One time when my mom was in the hospital it was time to go school clothes shopping and my youngest sister was so particular that dad couldn’t stand it anymore and bought her whatever she liked - regardless of cost (we normally had a limit) - mind you, dad told mom that he would NEVER take us school clothes shopping again!

My wife and I are both they youngest. She 1 of 4 and me 1 of 3. I’d say by the time it got to us, our parents had seen it all. it was hard to come up with an excuse that hadn’t already been tried.

As I think of it, we’re the only ones that stayed in close by. Everybody else went away with no intentions of returning. We might have both stayed because our parents learned a lot, also, and maybe their parenting [the demands that didn’t seem as demanding on the 3rd or 4th child] changed after our brothers and sister were raised.

Well, I’m the youngest of four children; but, raised with two step-sisters that came into our lives when I was 18 months old. But, they too are older than I.

I don’t think, being the youngest, had any drawbacks, except being the only one home after my siblings got married. That was a little scary during the nights when Dad would be working third shift. But we all kind of worked together doing our given chores. He surely made sure we had enough to do and also that it was carried through.

I have had many conversations with my 3 older siblings about this. They of course viewed being the youngest as being the “favored” child. In their view, Mom and Dad (who were also the youngest children) let me get away with things. They had to wait until I was old enough to do things. I was able to do things at a younger age (skiing, trips to Disney World etc.) That’s how they viewed being the youngest. And to some extent it is true.

My brother and sisters do not live around here. I am not faced with being the youngest most of the time. And, as a parent with 3 children, I understand the birth order on an intellectual level. But, at times I still struggle with some of these feelings. I guess the heart never forgets.

Being the youngest had its benefits. My parents were more financially secure, so I received, or had access to things that my sisters didn’t. Also, I think they were easier going with me all round (maybe worn down? wiser?). To me, the most significant aspect of being the youngest is the unique perspective. You are able to see each sibling pass by life’s milestones before you do. I have to believe my response to passing my own milestones is influenced by my observations. What’s it like to be the oldest, to be the first at everything (and to experience your parents first responses)? I don’t know.

As the first born of three, I feel I have a bit of insight. Quite possibly my insight comes on a bit differently in that my youngest sibling is now deceased. She died in the car accident in May of 1977. And so a great deal of my thought and prayers over the past number of years have centered around my youngest sibling.

Though money was always tight, I was content to let Mother and Dad pay for my prom dress; she worked and paid for her own. She had greater insight and took greater responsibility than I did at seventeen.

As number 6 son and the youngest for 13 years I believe my parents left me pretty much to the wolves (brothers). It was a busy house hold and there was always something for the boys to do. So - overall it was a very positive loving experience.

Doted on, Spoiled but not rotten, lonely at times when I am the only sibling my age especially on vacations, older parents who are not quite up to activities a child 40 and 42 years younger want to do, sadly didn’t know and not close to a 20 year older brother, 16 year older sister who is a “mother” sister but very close being the same sex. My sister and brother-in-law took me most places a parent would have. My family is nearly all deceased with being the last of the offspring and being much younger. My case is probably different than most as I was the youngest but also after 16 and 20 years.

I was the youngest of 4 children in my family - 3 girls and 1 boy. The baby girl born just ahead of me died at birth so when I came along I was spoiled by my dad for the 17 years I had him. My mother died when I was 3. My dad was 42 and raised 3 kids - 12, 10, and 3. I was teased a lot by my older brother and sister and many times I asked my dad if I really belonged in that family or was I adopted. I wore hand-me-down clothes all the time - given to us from many sources. I would be embarrassed at school. This was during the depression but I did not know I was poor. I was given the worst cleaning jobs in the house by my older sister - like cleaning the bathroom. Ugh!!!! The youngest child has little to say in arrangements like that. But I survived. (I keep a pretty clean bathroom today tho.)

Interesting topic, I’d be happy to give you my perspective. I am only the youngest of 2 siblings, but also the youngest of 12 first cousins. We all lived in the same town and went to the same high school, so I feel I had 11 siblings.

Hope that helps. Just one other thing. The rule in our family was “no fighting”. Believe it or not, my brother and I stuck to the rule!

I was the seventh child of eight, not quite the youngest, but having siblings as much as 15 years older, I know something of what it’s like to be the youngest. I wore a lot of hand-me-down knickers and, yes, I was sometimes discounted, but seldom indulged. Remember the old nursery rhyme — Monday’s child is fair of face, Tuesday’s child is full of grace, Wednesday’s child is full of woe, Thursday’s child has far to go, Friday’s child is loving and giving, Saturday’s child works hard for its living, But the child that’s born on the Sabbath day is bonny and blythe, and good and gay.” Well, I was Tuesday’s child, but hardly full of grace as a child. In God’s own time, though, grace was poured out upon me, and, although I am still not full of grace, I’m working on it. As the seventh child, I was special, so my mother told me, because, she said, seven is the “perfect number” in the Bible. It is found hundreds of time in the Bible, 40 times in the book of Revelation alone. Seven churches, seven spirits of God, seven stars, seven angels, etc. All of my seven siblings are special too, for all received God’s special grace, and five of them have received the crown of life.

Although I am the youngest in my family, there are several years between me and my nearest sibling, so I always felt as though I was somewhat raised as the only child. I’m sure I am a bit spoiled and indulged. But…I can tell you that my youngest hates being the youngest and is always complaining that he never gets to do anything that his siblings do, blah, blah, blah. WE try to tell him how lucky he is to be the youngest and that you get all the attention and are treated like the baby forever. So far, he doesn’t believe us.

At dinner last night, I asked my youngest what she would offer as advice to you, and she said she noticed at my nephew’s wedding last weekend, that when my older brother told a story, I listened carefully to what he said, but when I told a story, I was often interrupted and/or the subject was changed. Prior to hearing what my daughter had to say, I would have said it wasn’t until I was 35 or so that my siblings took me seriously, but now with my youngest’s observation, perhaps it never happens! (My youngest acknowledged that she has noticed similar dynamics in her relationships with her two older sisters. Anything that’s new to her and worthy of sharing, is “old hat” to her sisters, and not that interesting.)

As I reflect back, I think being the youngest had both benefits and non-benefits (obviously…)… I think the benefits outweighed the negatives and I never really thought of myself at a disadvantage for anything…

I learned also to stay out of trouble by not doing what my older brothers did to get into trouble…I knew what not to do to get caught at something…so I guess I was “sneakier” if I did something “bad”….but also I learned not to even do the “bad” or pay the consequences…