Growing up too fast

No one has ever accused me of growing up too fast, but this isn't about me.
This is about Jose.
Jose is not just a friend and a co-worker, Jose has been family to me since I was a teenager. I could talk about his cooking, his humility, his homemade birthday gifts (I will have to talk about those things sometime) and many other tales, but I would have to split this article in a lot of little pieces.
Those most amazing thing about Jose is his character. When people ask me who I think of as Christlike I immediately think of Jose. Even back in the day when I thought I was a little better than I was (or am), Jose was a cut above. Honest, considerate, and the voice of reason.
He had a hard childhood at least compared to me. From the time he was old enough to walk his family had him working to pull his weight. The money was to be sent to Mexico to help his family, he lived off garage sales and discount school lunches. Jose didn't have a bike, toys, or anything of his own per say.
When we had one of our creative writing classes one day I asked him to write about a Christmas memory, he told me when he was 8 years old he got a shovel for Christmas. He asked Santa for a book, and his dad gave him the shovel and told him to get a job and buy his own book. The story broke my heart when I first graded it, and it still does.
His father told him to quit school and get another job so that he could send more money to Mexico, I fought hard to keep him in school. I am very grateful that I succeeded, but back in those days it was a regular struggle. Jose was a great student and very bright, but the pressure from his family was powerful. Jose dreamed of going to college and instead of supporting his dreams his family mocked him or asked him if he thought he was "too good for him." At times I felt like I was the only family Jose really had.
In High School in my senior year I noticed that Jose didn't go to school for three days in a row, and I grew worried. Jose wouldn't miss school unless he was seriously ill or dead, he had perfect attendance except for one week when he had the chicken pox and that was only when they made him go home. I called his home and had no answer, so I went there after school.
The house was dark and I could see things thrown on the floor all around. The house was empty of people though, so I let myself in with the spare key and waited for a bit. 4:00 in the afternoon slowly turned to 10:00 at night. Finally the door opened up and Jose came in wearing a stained apron and pants that were two sizes too small, with his younger brother Manuel in tow. They had a good scream when I turned on the light to say the least.
After Manny was sent to bed, I pulled one of the chairs out for Jose and told him to sit.
"Did you drop out?" I asked feeling frustrated with him beyond words. "It's your senior year...you have less than 4 months left. Why the hell did you drop out now?!"
He looked down at his hands and mumbled.
"What did you say?"
He looked up with wet eyes. "She left us."
Then I understood. Jose told me the story of the last few days. His father in Mexico got in a fight with his "step-mom" and she got angry and left Jose and his younger brother in an empty house with no money. For the last three days Jose had been working since he didn't have any food in the house and was trying to earn enough to keep the roof over their head.
Jose was a good person and many people felt compelled to help him out, and through others and hard work he was able to finish high school. He graduated with me back in 1996, the first in his family to get a high school diploma. At the age of 18 he had saved enough money from his three jobs to get the down payment for a mobile home, and raised his younger brother Manuel for two more years.
Manny was a handful at many times, and if Jose had any weakness it was being too soft sometimes on his brother. Jose didn't know where to turn since he had problems with Manny sneaking out, partying, and skipping school. So that is when I had to become Poppa Janus. Jose and I worked together to make sure Manny held it together until he was 18 and then he could be responsible for his own trouble. Through time, patience, and strong arming from Poppa Janus we got Manny to graduate, making him the second in his family to do so.
Some parents talk about how kids are terrible for their careers, some older siblings complained that they had to take care of their siblings a lot. Jose never has said a single word of regret about taking care of Manuel. Someone might say that it was his job, since he was Manny's older brother. Actually Jose is the second youngest of five. His two older brothers and sister didn't step up because they had "problems of their own." I was there to help when Jose needed it at times, but Jose was the one that made the sacrifices.
Jose didn't have to, but he did. He gave up his college dreams, his childhood, and many painful hours to take care of Manny. He worked three jobs for 5 years to pay for all the bills for the roof over their heads and to make sure his brother would not miss any school. Jose did it all without complaint and without regard for himself.
Years later Manny is doing better now, and he realizes how much is brother paid for his way. A phone call a few weeks back brought many tears and memory about those rough years. Manny now had his own home and a few kids of his own, Jose feels he did his job.
Last year Jose had his first child of his own, and is happily married today. He might still have to wait for that college dream he has, and as we reach our 30's, he wonders if he will ever be the first in his family to get a college degree. He still thinks he will, but he has other things to do.
God I love my friend Jose. The world needs more like him.