I am thinking of a time when I was a child and I woke up hearing the yells of strangers outside the window. I smelled smoke and just knew immediately something was very wrong. I felt a sense of intense fear come over me, and just as I grabbed my best friend’s hand to go downstairs, my father came into the room and sternly told us to leave immediately and not look back. I grabbed my friend, and I dropped my pink doll, and I remember her blue eyes on the ground, but there was no time to go back. As we got outside the door, and I saw my father swiftly walking away from the house holding a little boy in his robe. Within minutes the fire engulfed the entire row of houses, and with a gusty wind, everything was gone. Thankfully, no one was killed to my knowledge.
The trucks showed up quickly with blaring sirens, and they ran out so fast I could barely see what they were doing. I felt better immediately. As I stood in my night shirt shocked, but comforted by the snow, I was told two men had left a friend of theirs drunk in front of a wood stove, and he had passed out. After they left, a log rolled out and started to burn. I was also told if two strangers passing by hadn’t seen the fire begin, and made all that noise, we would have surely perished.
What’s the moral of this story? Pay attention and hug a firefighter whenever possible. ♥