He was only three years old when his first real use of the force saved his life. Somehow managing to climb the old shelf the rusted bolts keeping it affixed to the wall suddenly snapped from his added weight. The entire thing toppled, spilling him onto the floor. Crying out in surprise and fear as everything fell around him he threw out his hand in a futile attempt to stop the shelf from falling toward him. Running out of the kitchen, wiping her wet hands on a towel, his mother cried out in shock when she saw the danger he was in. Pushing the bookshelf back against the wall she scooped him up into her arms and began to cry. He could still remember the way she clung to him as she fell to her knees, realizing what he had done.
He was nearly five years old when the jedi finally came for him. It had taken over a year, his parents arguing the decision back and forth, since his ability with the force almost got he and his sister killed. Near the end his mother was almost hysterical and his father was so drained he looked like a shadow of his former self. It didn't help that their son had frequent nightmares that always woke him in the middle of the night or that whenever he was upset he would end up pushing people away without even touching them. In the end he was lucky he had been born on Concord Dawn and not Manda'yaim. Either he would have been given to another family to raise or he would have been killed by the more extreme traditionalists.
Most families on Concord Dawn kept their children's force sensitivity secret. It was considered a private family matter and if someone outside the family saw a child using the force they politely averted their eyes and 'forgot' what they had seen. But there were the rare few who were too dangerous to keep, too powerful to be properly contained. He was one of them.
The day he left with the jedi his sister knelt and hugged him to her, her long hair tickling his nose as she held back tears. "I won't forget you, little brother." She swore, her voice firm and filled with conviction. His father slipped an amulet over his neck, the clan symbol carved into the small beskar disc. His family was not abandoning him, no, they were giving him a better life. A life he would not have had with them. With one last look back at his family he took the jedi's master's hand and was led away.
He would never see his parents, or their farmhouse, again.