I heard the sirens before I saw the truck. Emily and I watched the fire truck and the fire Suburban race by in front of our house. We heard them slowing, so we went out on the front porch to take a look. That's when we smelled the smoke. The sickening smoke of something other than leaves, wood, or trash. The smell of a house on fire. We looked up and saw brown and black smoke rising from a couple of blocks away.
Curiosity got the best of us and we drove over there, arriving just as the firemen were hooking up their hoses. Large orange flames were literally shooting out of the front door. Thick smoke was pouring out of the windows and around the place where the roof/ceiling connects to the walls. The firemen had the fire out in about 10 minutes, but within that amount of time, another family lost everything they own.
The city meter reader was standing next to me telling me that the woman's (who lived in the burning house) parents' house burned to the ground last month or so. That woman arrived a few minutes before her daughter. They were both distraught. I was so sad for them.
Unfortunately, I realized that I had to go pick up my other daughter from school, as Sally went to visit her mother this morning, because she had to go to another town for an eye appointment. I had to leave just when the two women broke down (understandably) into tears.
I picked up Audrey and told the girls that I needed to go back to see if there was anything I/our church could do. By the time we got back, the police had corded off the area and I couldn't get to the women.
I realized how quickly your entire life can change. It made me more content, more appreciative of what I have. I pray God's grace upon that family and their situation. Hopefully, this evening or tomorrow, I can make contact with them and help them in their hour of need. You take a moment and pray for them, too.