At the time, I wasn't thrilled about it because I was nine when he got here and I already had five younger brothers and sisters by then (we ended up with four more!)
It was hard transition for all of us - he didn't speak English and after the initial "cute" stage, he was a hand full and was repeatedly being disciplined (that is, beaten) by my parents and captured by the cops for minor stuff - usually swiping magazines.
But when the Vietnam War rolled around, he and I both volunteered - me in the Marines and him in the army. We were both in combat and both of us were wounded and both had full military careers.
He was and is my favorite brother.
Very good story.