Money Does Grow on Trees

Who says that money doesn't grow on trees? If you change the way you look at things, the way things look change.

The FIRE....Destruction, Transformation, and Growth

I knew I would never be the same after the night of the fire. It was a warm summer night when I was 6. Middle of the night, I was awakened by my mother, “little one, wake up, the house across the street is on fire.” I was a little confused waking up from a deep sleep, not fully understanding what was happening. I got out of the bed and I followed my mother up the staircase to the second floor to the front of the house to look out the windows.

Glancing out the window, it was like we were watching tv, from safely inside our house, but this was no fictional story, this was real and happening live. There was no going back, no recreating this, it was going to burn the way it would and only the firefighters could change the direction and intensity of the fire with their water hoses. It was as if the firefighters were like artists creating a masterpiece in an odd distorted way by putting the fire out. Put a little water here, so this section of the siding don't burn. A little water there in that room, so it doesn't get charred. Break this door down to get access to the flames. Rip a hole in the roof here to pour some water in. What was left when done, well that would be the creation of the firefighters effort in their skills.

In the meantime, the house was burning and it was an angry untamed fire as flames were shooting out from the large window on the second floor poking out from the roof of this cape style house, spitting the glass outwards onto the roof ledge. The first floor was burning intensely as well with flames shooting out from the sides of the home. It was as if the house had come alive with this intense hot orange colored energy.

There were lights flashing all about from the several fire engines, police cars, and ambulances that had already arrived on the scene. The lights danced a silent melody reflecting off the surrounding houses, trees, cars, and people that were in its path. It was like a wake up call to everyone to pay attention, “look, a house is burning.”

My mother opened the window we were staring out. Immediately the concentrated smoke pouring from the burning house in front of us found its way inside our house where it entered into our noses so we could smell the scent of destruction. It was a message to me that helped me realize that no one is immune to the effects of fire as I can be safe in my house but if the fire wanted it could come to my house sometime as well. I realized that I could not be safe no matter where I was.

After a few hours, the firefighters were able to tame the monstrous energy outburst of fire and the house slowly calmed down from its tantrum. I was exhausted; up all night with my front row view of this seemingly captivating event of the night. Slowly one by one the curious neighbors that stood around all night outside to watch the fire were almost feeling disappointed as they turned around and walked home sadly when the fire was finally out. I don't know why they would be disappointed that the fire was out, shouldn't they be happy? Then the firemen hopped into their trucks and slowly retreated. It was time to go back to bed as if nothing happened. A sound sleep that night, too much to process that night, but that was yet to come.

Morning was difficult to face. The realization that the house across the street was forever changed, not yet boarded up, the devastation could clearly be seen. My mother and I walked over there to have a look around the property. We walked around the house and took in the whole scene. It was interesting for my young eyes to see this. Just the previous day, everything was normal and now it was not, it was completely transformed.

In an instant, I thought back to the previous month. The house was for sale at the time of the fire. Just the week before, on a Sunday, there was an open house. An ordinary open house, a happy time, my mother and I went through the house out of nosy curiosity. I remember it clearly, the staircase with the steps that weren't too deep that even my little six year old feet found awkward to walk up. The second floor was open with an ugly green carpet. The side window of the second floor had a large ledge and I sat on it and looked out the window with the sun shining in while my mother talked to the real estate agent about the house details. I thought the ledge was the most awesome part of the house as it was the perfect size for me to relax in.

When my daydream was over, I was once again standing by this newly burnt house. I was looking up at the window where the ledge that I sat in was. It was all black. Flames had poured out this window charring all around it. I could see in to the second floor, it was totally black in there. Feeling as if it was too unreal, I was feeling kinda foggy in my mind. I walked by the bathroom window on the first floor, I could see in so clearly to the bathroom. I was standing a few feet from the fire devastation seeing all the melted dropping things that were in the bathroom and the blackness of the soot and charred remains. It was too much for my little eyes. My mother and I walked home to safety or so I thought.

In the days and months that followed, I found it difficult to look at the house across the street, which was boarded up at this point. I would purposely avoid gazing at it, trying to not see it, so it couldn't bother me. However, it did bother me, more than I could imagine at the time. I could not process what happened. I couldn't accept it, it was too traumatizing.

Years later, the house torn down, new house built, life goes on all around. For me, I was stuck, I developed Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Nightmares all the time occupied my dreams. It was not easy growing up with this imprint on my mind. Anything related to fire would instantly send me into a panic. Seeing how fire transformed a happy colorful home into an uninhabitable charred black mess of a house enlightened me to realize how powerful fire is, that it has the power to transform permanently what it comes into contact with. The house was not the only thing changed that night, I was changed as well, as I could no longer be the innocent little girl unaware of the power and purpose of fire.