A Thanksgiving Fire: When you walk through fire

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.

—Isaiah 43:2

I was home from college to celebrate Thanksgiving. After a full day with family and a full stomach to boot, it was time for bed. Before we climbed the stairs, Dad put a few more logs on the wood stove. My sister, Mary, heard him talking with Mom. They seemed concerned that the stove was hotter than usual. When Mary reached her bedroom, she felt heat radiating from the wall behind her headboard, which butted up to the interior chimney. She extended her hand and placed it on the wall. It was warm. Now she too was concerned. She set her alarm to go off in a few hours so she could check on it.

By the time she awoke, smoke had filled the room, stinging her eyes and making her cough. She rushed out and woke up Dad and Mom. Dad went to investigate, while Mom woke up the rest of the family.

“Get up! The house is on fire!” she called through my bedroom door.

I awoke in a panic, my heart pounding. What do I do? What do I take?

“Come on! We’ve got to get out!” Mom yelled, “And stay low so you can see beneath the smoke!”

I grabbed my purse (and my unmentionable) and hurried down the stairs and out the door to join the rest of the family outside. Already Dad was filling buckets with water from the outdoor spigot. Mom called the fire department and enlisted me, along with my sisters and oldest brother, to help Dad. She took my grandmother and youngest brother next door to stay with relatives. An older cousin, who lived with us, took over filling the buckets, while my siblings and I ran them over to Dad on the other side of the house where he was dousing the flames. We couldn’t bring the buckets fast enough. He emptied all of them before we could get another refilled. Mom returned with a fire extinguisher and handed it off to Dad, all the while eyeing the above ground fuel tank only a few yards from the fire. Dad took aim with the extinguisher but could not quench the flames. My uncle showed up with additional fire extinguishers collected from neighbors, but none of them could put out the fire either. We knew we had to keep the flames at bay. We continued battling the blaze with our bucket brigade till the fire trucks arrived. Finally the fire fighters put out the flames. All that was lost was the wall surrounding the chimney.

As we stood there shivering, still in our nightgowns and bare feet, staring at the gaping hole in the house, we took a deep breath and exhaled a prayer. We had so much to be thankful for.

Dear God, thank You for giving us insight and wisdom on how to fight the fire that night, for walking us through it, and most of all for sparing our home and our lives. You are our strength and our shield; our hearts trust in You (Psalm 28:7). Amen.

Safe and sound, years later