It’s a growing concern that world leaders, economists and even Pope Francis have warned about: people aren’t having enough children.
Across the globe, birth rates are plummeting below the replacement level of 2.1 children per woman, the minimum needed to maintain a stable population.
Countries such as Japan, Italy and even the U.S. are now facing shrinking workforces, aging populations and economic uncertainty as a result.
Pope Francis, too, has urged families to embrace more children, praising the value of big families, which teach children selflessness and sharing — benefits that extend far beyond the home.
And I couldn’t agree more.
I was raised as an only boy in a family of six kids, which was at once a blessing and a curse.
When I was 12, the neighborhood bully was constantly picking on me, but I had no brothers to teach me to fight. My sisters taught me. I looked the bully dead in the eye and said, “You are soooooooo immature!”
Despite having no brothers, my father made me wear hand-me-downs. It wasn’t too bad most of the year, but Easter Sunday was unpleasant. Do you know how hard it is to outrun the neighborhood bully with your pantyhose bunching up and your bonnet flopping in the wind?
Though my sisters loved and doted on me many times, other times they complained to my parents that I was stinky and gross, which meant I was forever banished to the third seat in the back of the station wagon.
One of my fondest memories was going grocery shopping with my father every Thursday night. We hit the Del Farm grocery store, the beer distributor and the butcher and we arrived home just as “The Waltons” theme song was playing on television.
Like a Red Cross operation, everyone in the house unloaded and packed away our weekly supplies, then we joined for some potato chips and orange and cherry soda pop as we watched John Boy and his many siblings show us what life was like during the Great Depression.
Copyright 2025 Tom Purcell, distributed exclusively by Cagle Cartoons newspaper syndicate.