Tones drop, whistle goes up.....wide awake, to the station we race race race.
Bunkers up, boots on....to the pack seat and way we go.
Lights flashing, siren wailing...it's 5 am where did all this traffic come from? Air horns blares, pierces the morning stillness. Please get out of the way, there's a house on fire, and a 5 year old trapped!
5 am and 4 miles from the station...we packed up--ladders up, through the window we go. Flames are high...Flames are hot...But still we FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT!
Try as we did, try as we might, the boys' angel went into flight.
It was a sad time when we watched the boys' angel disappear from sight, cause we knew the little boy would never awake.
As we prepared to move him-we couldn't help but feel failure-all the questions...What if? Could I have been? Did we do enough??
A lonely ride to the station and no answers to boot.
I asked God one more question...Dear God....Will you watch over the little ones with your divine wisdom and your caring touch??
|
