I Couldn't Stop Smiling...Except When I Was Crying

The nearby community that I claim for my own was saved from a horrendous fire last week. Pictures of flames 50 ft. high being pushed around with 50 mi. an hour wind gusts cause everyone that sees them to walk away shaking their head in wonder.

The whole town of 6000 was evacuated for three days while the planes, helicopters and ground crews worked to keep the fire from consuming any portion of our town. Police, sherriffs, and CHP patrolled for looters or 'hold outs' to keep even them safe.

When it was all over, the local Lion's Club sponsored a spaghetti dinner for all the service workers that saved every home and business.

Earlier in the summer -August, I believe, a fire started closer to my house. On the main road leading to my house just a mile away, an arsonist had started a fire. After the initial excitement of the low-flying helicopters and the DC-10 dropping red dust, adrenelin took over and I started collecting 'stuff' to take with me.

There wasn't much wind that day and the fire was out in an hour or two, but it took out the power for the rest of the day. When I went into 'town' a few days later, there were crews
still working and it was plain to see where the fire had gone and where it was heading.
Fires can move at 50 miles per hour when the wind is pushing them, and at that time, they have created their own weather and their own wind. Looking at the hillside and canyon crammed with thristy and tired brush unburned and uncleared for untold decades, it was obvious the firemen had saved my neighborhood...my house.

I rolled down my window to say thank you and a lump formed in my throat, such that I had to shout it, not sounding very grateful. I had to shout it just to get it out.

Fsst forward...last week...Friday. The big fire is over, the dinner is prepared and I show up to serve food, take out trash, whatever. I bring 3 dozen cupcakes and my husband prepared 4 dozen cookies. The Lions made the main meal and the 'community' was assigned to bring desserts.

From the moment I parked my truck, The Smile pulled my wrinkled cheeks away from their usual position. Every crewman, every helper, every moment of carrying out my task reinforced the purpose of that smile. Joy of serving, pleasure at seeing warm, familiar friends, watching the firemen enjoy the meal and hospitality kept the smile from fading.

Until, I got the ear of one particular fireman and tried to tell him about the lump that stopped me from a proper thank you. Tears welled up and again the lump tried to stop the words. The fireman put his arms around me and I listened to his beating heart for a moment. The sound cuddled my inner child and comforted her in her deepest place of being. I was finally able to thank at least one fireman. It took nearly a thousand of them to save my house...twice! And it was all I could do to thank just one...once.

I went back to serving, and The Smile took over my face once again. It wasn't one of those 'forced' smiles I usually use to reassure people that "I'm NOT depressed....REALLY!" The Smile came naturally but I couldn't control it which made it feel unnatural and not mine. But it was, and it came from the inner child's joy at being under blue sky clear of smoke, with tall pine trees untouched by flame, and the purity of heart that is present when a child tenderly and joyfully gives someone they love a freshly picked, hand-chosen flower.