On Monday we spoke French.
Tuesday we spoke Spanish.
Wenesday we spoke Mandarin Chinese
Thursday we spoke High Arabic
Friday we spoke German
And on the weekends we spoke English.

So it took them all longer to learn to speak than it did most children. But by the age of five, they were all fluent in six languages.

Everyday we were arisen at 7am to the music of some classical composer.
Over breakfast we would learn about that composer, the period during which he composed, and about the particular piece of pieces we were hearing. We also learned about the instuments being played and how to pick them out. We were shown pictures on cards.
For breakfast, we would have something of one of the cultures under the umbrella of the language we spoke that day.
Sunday Swimming lessons. Monday Piano lessons. Tuesday Ice skating lessons. Wednesday Skiing lessons. Thursday Karate lessons. Friday Dance lessons. Saturday Etiquette lessons.
Over lunch, we learned about philoshophy. Sometimes it was just a single posed question and the ensuing discussion. Sometimes it was the life story of an ancient philosopher.
For lunch we always had something simple and healthy. A sandwhich, a salad, a soup.
Afternoons could be anything. Museums, parks, sights. Car rides, afternoons in the living room. Drawing, playing games (chess).
Over dinner we discussed politics. Sometimes it was a single issue and or thoughts. Other times it was the story of an ancient regime... or a current one. Never told what to think, always asked.
For dinner we tried all sorts of different meals. All foreign. Not all delicious. The deal was we had to try. And if we really didn't like it, we were given the option of making ourselves spaghetti. Spaghetti wasn't our favourite food, but it was okay.
After dinner, we watched the news. Always in the language of the day. Six different perspectives of often the same stories. We also knew that a story was important if we heard it at least three languages. Also, one week we watched the Quebec news, while another week news from Madagascar. One week we watched Spanish news, and the next we watched Colombian news.
After the news, we read. The books were organized on the shelves in order of difficulty with the Grimm tales at the beginning and Ezra Pound and William Faulkner at the end. The first were read to us. And the rest we read ourselves.
While we took our baths, we discussed what we had read. The bath was a pool. All four of us fit.
After our baths, we were given a cup of juice of milk and were allowed to watch half an hour of so of a movie.

No wonder they shocked their teachers, and were bored by their classmates.

The eldest was grateful for the way she was raised, the languages she knew, the awereness she had, and the rationality she carried. But she never loved knowledge, loved language. She saw the practical aspect and used it to the fullest. She became the senior manager of a large private Chinese company. She ran the show, eveyone on her staff depended on her. Her eyes were piercing, they saw through everything. And the staff believed that their eyes would never see as far. So they never tried. But they worked hard, at her command.
The second oldest may have been grateful for everything he knew and understood, but he never showed it to anyone. He was absolutely brilliant, but it seemed that that brilliance never wanted to leave his head. He went through school without taking any language courses or advanced course. But the courses he took, he aced, to the teachers' dismay who knew he could do so much more. He went to university. Accidentally attracted the attention of all his professors and graduated at the top of his class. But he went on to be a stock brocker. A damn good one, a millionaire. But he never made show that he was any more than the people around him.
The third one was passionate about everything she learned. She took it all in with endless gratefulness and went in search of more. She spoke the languages and knew the linguistic technicalities behind them. She read every book on those shelves and every book in the public library. She was extraordinarily friendly with her teachers and was heavily involved in student government and volunteer operations. But she never had many friends. She worked hard and travelled much. Culture fascinated her. She studied it and language extensively and went to become an interpreter for the UN. Then subsequently had to maintain two names to keep working for the UN since she was so heavily involved in radical volunteer efforts. She became world famous as a political activist.
The youngest was taciturn. He was particularly fascinated by philosophy. He went to school, but spent his time with his nose in some foreign philosphy book, looking up only long enough to accomplish assigned tasks. He sailed through math, language, and science course at a normal level. But he chose to excel in English and Philosophy classes. He never volunteered his opinion in high school, but when his teachers asked it of him, he often left them (and the entire class) dumbfounded. He went on to get a BA in English, and a masters and Ph.D. in philosophy. He became a professor at an Ivy league school in the US. He kept a journal and wrote in it extensively in a secret code. He was also largely published. And though his literature was earth-shattering, it wasn't particularly inviting. He never expected much from the world.

One would never have though they were brothers and sisters. They went on to such different things. They looked so different, and acted so differently.
The eldest was tall and stunning. Her hair was dark and straight. She often wore tailored suits and was always immaculate.
Her older brother always dressed stylishly. He wasn't exceptionally tall, but he was well built. He had certain gait.
The third has flowing light brown curls that seemed to look beautiful no matter how little care she took of them. She was well shaped, and had a round, rosy, and smiling face. It was odd to see her in a suit and seemed more right to see her with mud smeered across her face and her clothes worn and torn.
The youngest was short, scrawny. He hid his eyes being his glasses and he always dressed simply. His hair was light and short.

But they had their similarities. None of them spoke much. They never engaged in idle chatter. They all had piercing eyes that at times made others nervous. Even when they were children, adults thought twice before being condescending. They never took vacations. They easily stayed up several nights in a row to finish a project. They often seemed cold to their peers, yet they never witheld when asked a question. They never had girlfriends or boyfriends. They were open to advances, but their bodies simply did not respond.