From Scratch
Immediately after I arrived to the scene, I knew my whole life was about to be completely different. Smoke poured from the chimney while I watched my father fall to his knees, convulsing sobs taking over his body. Through my own tear-filled eyes, I saw the firefighters bust out the blackened windows that I used to sit behind and look out to the world. They shot large amounts of water into my house, drowning the hope of salvaging any of our belongings. This process continued for hours, until the smoke finally slowed and the firefighters packed up their truck and went home to their normal families on what to them must have felt like a normal Wednesday evening. However, for me, this evening was the beginning of many hard days to come. Losing my house in a fire taught me that material objects should not be a priority, having people is what is important, and I am more fortunate than most.
The loss I felt helped me realize that I should not count on material objects to make me happy. Days after the fire, when we were finally able to go inside, I opened the front door and was struck with a wretched smell that would forever be burned into my brain. Even though it was the middle of the day, we needed flashlights to see. The house was darkened by the soot that covered every remaining inch of the walls and hardwood floors. All of our possessions were either disintegrated by the flames or destroyed from large amounts of smoke. I lost my clothes, my pictures, and most heartbreakingly, my dogs. Nausea set in when I saw the outlines of where their tiny bodies had been. As I stepped away and silently wandered around the remains of my lifelong home, I started questioning why something like this would happen to someone like me. Thoughts like those lingered in my mind often through the next few months during which nothing seemed to improve. I found myself in a dark place, physically and mentally, and I regularly questioned my previously solid relationship with God. As a thirteen year old, I just could not understand why my God would put me and my family through such a terrible experience.
In this great time of struggle, I realized just how much the people in my life meant to me. Even people that I did not know were generous in our time of need. Without being able to lean on the people in my life, there would have been no way that I could have gotten through this experience and still been myself. While I was fortunate enough to have my mom’s house to go to, my dad and stepmom were homeless. The only clothes they had were the ones they were wearing that day. My grandparents graciously opened up their home to my parents, so they would not be stuck living in a hotel. Community members and family friends sent food, clothes, and money. We were overwhelmed by the goodness of the people in our small town. The most uplifting part to me, though, was the presence of my friends. Throughout the many months of strife, their loyalty never wavered. They stuck by my side, even in my dark moments, and helped to lift me out of the sadness that I constantly felt. The amount of love I felt from many people in my community made me eternally grateful and taught me to appreciate what I did have in a new way.
During this experience, I never stepped back to look at the bigger picture. If I had, I would have realized how fortunate I actually was. Eventually life started to get better. We got our insurance money, bought a new house, and moved on with our lives. I finally understood what God had in his plan for me and my family when he put us through what is still the most challenging event that any of us have endured. He gave us a fresh start, and a chance to start from scratch while helping me find out just how strong I was along the way. From that moment on, I started thinking of the fire as a blessing disguised in an ugly costume. My attitude towards material objects was completely altered. I soon realized that we were better off than we had been before. We owned a beautiful house and got back most of our belongings and more. I was fortunate to be able to go from having literally nothing, to having more than I probably deserved.
Sitting outside of my home that Wednesday afternoon, watching it fall to pieces, I never would have thought that I would grow into a person that could make it through struggles like these. I thought that without all of the objects that I “loved,” my life was over. I quickly learned that that was not the case. In a way, I am thankful for the experience that opened my eyes to the fact I don’t need material belongings in my life to be happy: people are what matter... and the people in my life have proved to be better than most.
The loss I felt helped me realize that I should not count on material objects to make me happy. Days after the fire, when we were finally able to go inside, I opened the front door and was struck with a wretched smell that would forever be burned into my brain. Even though it was the middle of the day, we needed flashlights to see. The house was darkened by the soot that covered every remaining inch of the walls and hardwood floors. All of our possessions were either disintegrated by the flames or destroyed from large amounts of smoke. I lost my clothes, my pictures, and most heartbreakingly, my dogs. Nausea set in when I saw the outlines of where their tiny bodies had been. As I stepped away and silently wandered around the remains of my lifelong home, I started questioning why something like this would happen to someone like me. Thoughts like those lingered in my mind often through the next few months during which nothing seemed to improve. I found myself in a dark place, physically and mentally, and I regularly questioned my previously solid relationship with God. As a thirteen year old, I just could not understand why my God would put me and my family through such a terrible experience.
In this great time of struggle, I realized just how much the people in my life meant to me. Even people that I did not know were generous in our time of need. Without being able to lean on the people in my life, there would have been no way that I could have gotten through this experience and still been myself. While I was fortunate enough to have my mom’s house to go to, my dad and stepmom were homeless. The only clothes they had were the ones they were wearing that day. My grandparents graciously opened up their home to my parents, so they would not be stuck living in a hotel. Community members and family friends sent food, clothes, and money. We were overwhelmed by the goodness of the people in our small town. The most uplifting part to me, though, was the presence of my friends. Throughout the many months of strife, their loyalty never wavered. They stuck by my side, even in my dark moments, and helped to lift me out of the sadness that I constantly felt. The amount of love I felt from many people in my community made me eternally grateful and taught me to appreciate what I did have in a new way.
During this experience, I never stepped back to look at the bigger picture. If I had, I would have realized how fortunate I actually was. Eventually life started to get better. We got our insurance money, bought a new house, and moved on with our lives. I finally understood what God had in his plan for me and my family when he put us through what is still the most challenging event that any of us have endured. He gave us a fresh start, and a chance to start from scratch while helping me find out just how strong I was along the way. From that moment on, I started thinking of the fire as a blessing disguised in an ugly costume. My attitude towards material objects was completely altered. I soon realized that we were better off than we had been before. We owned a beautiful house and got back most of our belongings and more. I was fortunate to be able to go from having literally nothing, to having more than I probably deserved.
Sitting outside of my home that Wednesday afternoon, watching it fall to pieces, I never would have thought that I would grow into a person that could make it through struggles like these. I thought that without all of the objects that I “loved,” my life was over. I quickly learned that that was not the case. In a way, I am thankful for the experience that opened my eyes to the fact I don’t need material belongings in my life to be happy: people are what matter... and the people in my life have proved to be better than most.