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As the first trucks arrived, Steve noticed that one end of the house was full engulfed in flames. The other, it appeared, was still untouched. Strapping on his SCBA, the novice firefighter ignored the flames and raced toward the, as yet, untouched portion of the building. Maybe, just maybe, a still sleeping child lay in one of those rooms unaware of the present danger. As he ran he thought of his own ten year old daughter. Patty slept like a rock. The fires of hell wouldn’t wake her.
Fifteen minutes later, a pajama clad girl of six spotted her frantic mother and leaped from his arms. As the two held each other, Steve’s eyes filled. His heart pounding, he once again knew he had chosen the right profession.
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