My twin brother Sam was adopted without me, and I spent sixteen years wondering why

My twin brother Sam was adopted without me, and I spent sixteen years wondering why.

We were four when our parents passed away.
Within weeks, Sam left with a new family.
I stayed behind in a group home.

No explanations.
No goodbye I could remember.

I kept one of his old drawings in a small box under my bed.
It was the only proof my brother had ever been real.

When I turned eighteen, I moved into a tiny apartment and took the first job I could find. Every night after work, I searched for him—names, records, anything. I prayed without knowing how to put the ache into words.

Then one afternoon downtown, I stopped cold.

A man stood across the street who looked exactly like me.
Same build. Same face.
The same way of standing still when thinking.

He looked up.

And in his eyes, I saw myself.

“Sam?” I said.

He didn’t answer.
He just stepped forward and pulled me into his arms.

In that moment, I understood something only faith can explain:
What life separates, God can reunite in His perfect time.

For the first time since we were four years old, I didn’t have to watch my brother leave.

Some separations take years to undo.
Some prayers take a lifetime to be answered.
But God never forgets the bonds He creates.